His Only Defence
by LunaCanislupus
Summary: Stiles had just accidentally challenged an alpha. Oh God and Scott had just stood by and let him do it. He was the worst best friend ever. Stiles was going to kill him. Except oh right, the alpha was going to kill him first. Like beyond dead, ripped into tiny little pieces dead. So far dead that his dad would not be able to identify him, dead.
1. Noh

How this came to be: me- idea- words. The end.  
Enjoy!

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**Noh.**

The worst part was probably that his father had tried to warn him. And sure maybe he wasn't the prime example for concentration- what with the amount of Adderall- pumping through his veins but he had at least hoped that at some point life would stop pissing on him and pretending it was rain.

In all fairness he _was _running late, his mediation skills required these days in order to keep Scott and Allison's relationship alive. The Argent's hadn't taken too well to the fact that Scott was a werewolf- yeah them and half the population of America.

It wasn't like people were surprised that there were werewolves running around, how could they not have known with all of the different examples of it in the media? The easily accessible research. Pages upon pages of internet info retrieved at the click of a button. That wasn't the problem at all.

It was the fact that they were no longer top of the food chain that really had their panties in a twist. Alphas, betas, even omegas possessed more power than a human ever could and if that wasn't a kick in the evolutionary chains balls then Stiles didn't know what was.

At this stage it wasn't really a problem for him, but it was about to be. Stiles had never been one for luck, in fact he was pretty sure that irony had made him its bitch years and years ago but today was when it really decided to go in for the kill.

His keys were in his hand as he scrambled towards the door thoughts flying through his head a mile a minute, not slowing down enough to consider the importance of his father yelling at him from the living room.

"Stiles! Don't forget today's the..."

"Gotta meet Scott dad, sorry!" Stiles yelled back too hyped up to ponder over what his father could be warning him about _this _time.

Hell it was Beacon Hills and he was Stiles Stilinski. Trouble would find him no matter how much his dad wished it wouldn't. But being the Sheriff's son did have its perks, preventative measures against juvenile detention being one of them.

He sent a quick text out to Scott before he climbed into his jeep, starting his baby and blaring the radio so loud that it was probably damaging his ear canal but he didn't really care. Today he was all about helping Scott talk to his girlfriend, or for a better word, secret girlfriend. Hey, who was he to deny spreading the love? Besides Scott wasn't much of a catch. He'd really hit the jackpot with Allison and Stiles, as his best friend who could confidently make this observations about his blood brother couldn't say no to keeping them together and a little bit of lovin' in the universe.

It was all about the subtlety. Certainly Mr Argent was bound to give him strange looks from hanging around with Allison all the time, and very briefly- to deliver messages of Scott's undying love- but he was used to these looks. It had become apparent long ago that his cognitive skills resided on a higher plane than foolish mortals but he was okay with that. He'd learned to be adaptable and to accept that some people just thought that you were a freak. Enough said.

He didn't get very far of course. The whole town was blocked off. His phone beeped but he didn't need Scott's message to remind him. Of course. How could he have forgotten? Some big shot alpha who'd used to live here was returning and the town committee had organised this fantastic waste of time parade, blocking off all of the main roads and flooding them with people and festivity.

Stiles sat there while his jeep idled, curiously pondering the pros and cons of just driving into the fray of bodies, one jeep to hundred human ratio, consequence be damned. But then he could already picture his father shaking his head at him in his familiar but Stiles hoped affectionate- my God how did I possibly create you- kind of way so he decided against it.

Although he did slam his hands on the wheel in frustrated display of macho masculinity and nearly broke his hands from the manoeuvre, wailing like a girl at the freaking pain of it, deciding to just store his anger away for later. Let it fester for a bit, hold that kind of grudge that women seemed to do so easily.

He parked off to the side of the road, nearly hitting an old man in the process who smacked his walking stick on the side of his jeep in retaliation. He figured there was no point yelling at him to watch the jeep, the dude looked ancient enough to not even know what a hearing aid was so he accepted that sometimes you almost kill somebody and that somebody feels the need to wail on your jeep in revenge. The universe finds balance again.

He parked his car and reluctantly left his baby in the vicinity of these reasonably intelligent savages. There were people everywhere. It was like a people tsunami. A people explosion. A volcanic eruption of people that decimated the town with people lava, and he texted Scott to meet him on the steps of town hall resigning himself to the fact that his personal space was about to be seriously invaded. Like space invaders, invaded.

He let himself be swept away which was surprisingly easy seeing as he was only 147 pounds of fair skin and fragile bones. It was impossible to find Scott in this mess but he hadn't been pushed very far before he was being yanked out of the swarm and into the safety of the sidelines.  
Scott gave him a tense smile.

"How did you?..."

"Your scent," he explained. "Allison's over there with her family. I really need to talk to her."

"Then talk away buddy. You know you have my undivided attention. An explosion of Lydia hotness could not detract me from my focus right now. I am zen, one with the universe I am totally-"

"Stiles."

"-shutting up. Totally shutting up."

Scott rambled on for about a minute and Stiles tried to pay attention but every now and again people tried to walk through him instead of around him as if he weren't a corporal body and something they could just pass straight through. He kept stumbling all over the place and twitching, though the twitching could have had something to do with his medication.

His best friend finally finished and Stiles was grateful Scott had never been a big word kind of guy because then he would have never remembered what he'd said. He nodded and then bravely stepped out into the madness in the direction Scott had pointed praying to God that he wouldn't get crushed or stampeded on and then die a virgin.

Fifteen minutes later he'd moved about a couple metres, feeling extremely thankful that he was 147 pounds of nothing because then he was harder to hit pressed up against every inch of _everything _in this little sardine party. Or was it the anchovies that were always packed tightly together? He resolved to google it later if he ever made it out alive.

Somehow he found Allison. He repeated Scott's message the highlights being- Scott loves Allison, Scott will love and continue to date Allison forever even if her parents don't want her to because he's a werewolf. Scott believes it can still work. Scott will do anything to stay with Allison. Conclusion: Scott is whipped beyond recognition and is now brainless.

Allison smiles gratefully at the message which makes Stiles feel a little better about the whole thing. And so is Scott's reaction when twenty minutes later he makes it back to relay Allison's message. He continues this for a further hour and because he is irony's bitch it does not get any easier and the messages get even more gushier to the point that he must projectile vomit or endure it until his body gives the hell up and resolves to have a stroke instead. Considering the heat of the day too, heatstroke isn't entirely off the table.

After playing cupid for a few hours Stiles is getting tired and thirsty and frustrated so he's not feeling the best. He's tempted to lie and say that he's supposed to meet his dad to get out of further snail mail deliveries but he's pretty sure Scott's going to give him those puppy dog eyes and guilt him into it. His options aren't looking too great.

But then he spots Lydia in the crowd that brief flash of strawberry blonde hair raising his spirits so that he starts to think things might be looking up. And then the crowd starts to fizzle out a bit, making it easier to move back and forth between the two sickeningly cute lovebirds and some random vendor takes pity on Stiles and gives him a free bottle of water. And everybody's smiling and having a good time and Stiles is a sucker for conformity so he starts to think that maybe his luck is changing.

Until it isn't.

Allison starts to leave. Only Scott hasn't told her his final little admission of teenage angst that keeps the passion of their forbidden romance that more powerful. And he's frantically muttering these words to Stiles which he's struggling to follow because he's too interested watching the people slowly dispersing and the road he's been crossing for the entire afternoon starting to look like a road again.

Scott's finally done and nudges Stiles forward after Allison who's catching his gaze and looking somewhat disappointed as she's slowly dragged away by her parents. So naturally Stiles feels the need to hurry forward and be the hero and take that sad expression off of her face because it's within his power to do so.

And that's about when he almost gets run over by a sleek car driving way too fast in this crowd of people to be safe, or practical and he has to backpedal a whole hell of a lot so as not to get hit or fall on his ass. The front of the car get so close that it brushes against his jeans.

He yells without thinking, as he usually does. "What the hell are you doing? Did you not notice the thousands of pedestrians all over town? Are you trying to freaking kill me?"

Somebody gasps. The driver's mouth falls open in shock and Stiles bends down to retrieve his dropped water bottle which, thank you Jesus has rolled underneath the car so he has to resort to half crawling under it to get it. Dignity? What dignity you ask. He doesn't know the meaning of the word.

He wonders briefly if this was the smartest idea when he hears the engine rumbling around his ears. Well he wouldn't blame them if they ran over him, he did kind of make it easy for them. He hopes his dad didn't notice, or maybe he does. He's curious to see who his dad would give the third degree to, him or the driver.

His fingers close over the bottle, finally and he shuffles out from underneath the car wondering if he should flip the driver off for good measure only the driver's out of the car and standing in front of him is the man he was driving.

Everybody has gone silent and Stiles is starting to comprehend that hey maybe something big is going on here because everybody is staring and he's pretty sure he's wearing all of his clothing, this time. So nakedness could not be the problem.

Or maybe it's just the guy. Because even Stiles notices he is damn fuckable. He's wearing jeans and a leather jacket like some badass bikey and he has this baby don't even think about fucking with me kind of stare which if wasn't directed his way would certainly have him bending over quicker than a yoga instructor.

The man takes a step towards him and everything is quiet. Stiles wants to say too quite but maybe that's too many cliché moments for today. And he _did _almost just get run over_._

"Is there a problem?" the sex God Stiles wants to lick all over asks in a pretty rough tone which indicates he's about to create one.

There's something about this guy, the way he just took over everything that Stiles immediately doesn't like. He's taking the male masculinity thing to a whole new level. Stiles knows if _he _punched the steering wheel he wouldn't cry like a girl. No in fact he'd probably break it_._

But Stiles has seen way too many Jacksons to pretend that he's going to grovel all over this guy to save his own ass, though it is a nice ass perfectly untoned from years of bench warming for the lacrosse team.

"Did you just try to run me down?" Stiles asks. "Was your ineptitude nearly the death of me? See that's where I'm gonna say no and then I'm gonna say it's none of your business."

The guy just looks at him then and the driver's eyes widen further though Stiles for the life of him cannot figure out why. What the hell is wrong with this dude?

"He's my driver, therefore my problem."

Stiles scoffs openly at the guys abruptness. Straight and to the point. "Well this is _my _ass and you can use_ your _lips to kiss it._"_

It's not just one person gasping now, it's several and Stiles has not clicked with the program here but he hears a distinctive groan and wonders what the big deal is. The hunky guy looks shocked legitimately shocked and Stiles feels a thrill of satisfaction for putting it there, ass or no ass.

But with so many witnesses what can this guy do really? It's not like he's going to start an all out brawl. He must have figured out that Stiles isn't that much of a match now anyway though of course looks are deceiving. But somehow Stiles wants him to hit him, he wants to fight this guy, to teach him a lesson for being so damn sure of himself.

But then the man does something that completely surprises him. He glances around them looking into the crowd.

"Who does this pup belong to?" he asks managing to sound like the victim and make Stiles appear like he's the one causing trouble.

"He's the Sheriffs kid," somebody bravely replies, much to Stiles' irritation. Now he has no choice but to behave even if this guy is riling him up like he's never been riled up before. Did he take too much medication today or something? What the hell is wrong with him? But he's already protesting.

"I'm not a pup or a kid!"

The guy looks at him again, that overconfident smirk all over his sexy face and says.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you-"

And he doesn't get another word out because at the mention of his mother, Stiles _snaps. _He's launching himself forward before his brain can catch up with the moment using the force of his body to slam his hands into the guy's chest and push. In hindsight, bad idea but it was just a push, not even much of a push really.

But Stiles eyes widen when he hits corded muscle and God, rock _solid _abs but the man moves back more in surprise than anything else. Stiles finds that infuriates him further but the muscle thing seems to have provided a nice enough incentive to back the hell off before he becomes a bloody pulp.

"Don't- don't," he struggles to find the words. _Don't talk about my mother. _Five simple words but he can't bring himself to enunciate because he's so furious_._

"No."

It's that word that brings a growl out of the man and helps Stiles anger cool. He glances around the crowd again finally noticing the way their necks are bent as if in submission- to the _alpha._

Oh no. Jesus Christ _no._

He remembers reading once about what not submitting meant. To the alpha, not submitting was a sign of a challenge, a refusal to accept their word as law.

Stiles had just accidentally _challenged an alpha._

Oh God and Scott had just stood by and let him do it. He was the worst best friend ever. Stiles was going to kill him. Except oh right the alpha was going to kill him _first _like beyond dead, ripped into tiny little pieces dead. So far dead that his dad would not be able to identify him, dead. Well at least that thought was comforting.

"Alpha-" he began pointing at the man accusingly as if in need of confirmation.

"Hale." He said finished for him. "Derek Hale."

Stiles said a particularly colourful swear word and then did the only thing that he thought was a good idea in this situation. Run.

Only it wasn't a good idea because if he hadn't been half terrified out of his mind he would have realised that it would only make things _worse. _But a core meltdown of his brain had just occurred and he wasn't really dealing with smart Stiles at the moment.

Although in a minute he was going to be dealing with dead Stiles. At least then he wouldn't be caught in Scott and Allison's not another teen star-crossed lover's cliché. But unfortunately in that moment his goo brain chose life, and life included getting the hell out of doge before the big scary alpha ate him.

He'd barely made it three steps before a clawed hand was enclosing around his neck, yanking him back into a solid chest that he had just freaking pushed a minute ago like he was a pro-wrestler.

The crowd that had been scandalised by Stiles behaviour were even more affected by this new development. Stiles managed to catch Scott's eye and his facial expression seemed to spell out everything.

The gist was something along the lines of _You complete dumbass! What the hell do you think you're doing? _Yeah well he was still working on that phase of his don't die plan.

"Why did you run?" Derek growled into his ear. "Didn't anybody tell you that's an invitation?"

Stiles groaned wondering if it would make him any less of a man to punch himself in the face. He was already struggling fitfully in Derek's grip like some kind of limber octopus cursing to high heavens his unbelievable stupidity. Derek seemed to have no problem holding onto him and the close proximity was not helping things in the slightest. Stiles body wanted to write poems, sing melodies and write intense haiku's to his rocking bod. But then of course his brain was in a state of goo and in no such condition to be performing these tasks, thank God.

And then suddenly he was being dragged back to Derek's car, manhandled inside and kidnapped in broad daylight in front of a crowd of hundreds, his best friend included and probably his dad and maybe even Lydia though not one individual had lifted a finger to stop it? Right alpha law ranks higher than human law, how could he have let that precious detail slip his mind.

"What!- what?... What even?" he managed to coherently gasp out scrambling away from the leather wearing, alpha kidnapper in the small space. _"_Where are you taking me?"

"I'm taking you to your home as a courtesy to let your family know what's happened and give you twenty four hours to get your affairs into order. Then I'm coming back for you," Derek said simply.

"Coming back?" he squeaked out. "For me? Listen if this is because I pushed you- well, uh then I'm really sorry..."

"No you're not," Derek said. "You're lying."

Stiles winced. Werewolf equals automatic lie detector, dammit why did he keep forgetting all of these important details? His best friend was a freaking werewolf too!

"Then what the hell, man?" he demanded feeling his voice starting to get shrill. He was seriously contemplating wrenching the door open and diving out into the abyss of pain and bitumen.

"You'll only injure yourself," Derek said reading his thoughts as if he had spoken them. Stiles scowled at the older man feeling completely outmatched, but thankfully not outwitted.

"Why are you doing this?"

Derek's indifference vanished for a moment and his face hardened into an expression of pure rage.

"I'm not doing anything," he snarled. "You. Would. Not. Submit."

"That doesn't mean you kidnap me!"

Derek closed his eyes and breathed in deeply to calm himself and Stiles used the opportunity to drink in every aspect of his lean and attractive form, though he was angry and kidnapped and it was all business upstairs he swore. But downstairs on the other hand...

"You're still doing it," Derek explained tightly. "And now you're mine. It's instinct."

Stiles shivered. _And now you're mine. _God who even says that? What a douche, he tried not to roll his eyes but he did anyway because really how more screwed could he get?

"I'm not anybody's," he managed stubbornly.

Derek even had the gall to smirk at that and Stiles contemplated hitting all that toned muscle for a second try; he just needed to locate some organs or other tender areas. Although the finality of Derek's tone was definitely something to be concerned about and his overconfidence was freaking Stiles out like a hell of a freaking lot. He was certain Derek could hear his heart beat thrumming wildly in his chest from the opposite side of the car.

He was even more certain when Derek caught his upper arm and pulled Stiles into his lap like he was made of nothing. He squeaked out a protest but then Derek's tongue was sliding across the too hot skin of his neck and Stiles was moaning wantonly like a dirty little whore. He flushed at his reaction, trying futilely to pull away to put distance between this sexy man beast who could turn his brain into goo and make him sound like a freaking porno without really doing anything.

But then Derek's teeth came down biting deeply into the skin of his neck with an animalistic growl and Stiles _whined _impossibly horny and desperate for more. Dear God he was such a virgin. Derek released the grip on his arms and Stiles had to slide uncoordinatedly out of his lap and away from him knowing that the wolf could smell his arousal but was choosing to do nothing about it. The bastard. He wanted to punch the stupid alpha in his stupid face. And now his neck was freaking bleeding. Derek moved toward him again and Stiles tried not to seem hopeful but he merely lapped at the wound with his tongue, soothing over the hurt and making Stiles shudder. And then he pulled away like nothing had happened.

What. The. _Fuck._

"We'll see," he said.

Stiles opted for silence after that. Which is _really _saying something. This was a lot to wrap his head around. And his dad was definitely going to kill him. Maybe he and Derek would do it together as like a bonding thing. It didn't seem entirely unlikely.

But he was still trying to believe this was even happening at all. How in the holy hell of universes had he ended up in a heated argument with an _alpha? _Oh that was right he was irony's bitch, how had he even let it slip his mind for a moment. He remembered that earlier feeling, thinking maybe his luck was changing and felt the need for grievous bodily harm. To himself. For being below humanly possible levels of stupid.

When had Stiles luck ever changed? Why oh why had he been swept into a false sense of security like that? Oh that was right. He was Stiles Stilinski, this was Beacon Hills and his life _sucked._


	2. Non

Chappy, chap chapter.  
Enjoy!

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**Non.**

Stiles was in rage monster mode when Derek's driver dropped him home. The main reason being a) his best friend sucked and probably couldn't protect anyone from a _teddy bear _let alone a freaking alpha b) said alpha seemed to enjoy turning Stiles into mush and then watching him stagger out of the car because his legs were totally shaking like he was attempting to do some bizarre kind of dance with his feet. And c) standing beside the already awaiting Scott- he'd at least had the decency to wait for him at home- was the Sheriff of Beacon Hills and he was already shaking his head_._

Stiles immediately punched Scott as hard as he could in the shoulder knowing his strength was nothing compared to Scott's but felt pleasantly mollified that he winced like it had actually hurt.

"Thanks for sticking with me there ol' buddy ol' pal. Don't know what I would have done without you."

Scott looked stricken. "Stiles, he's an alpha. You know I couldn't..."

"Yeah, yeah just go and find another shoulder to cry on," Stiles muttered. "Because I'm pissed."

"Stiles," His dad finally spoke using his dangerous I'm a badass with a gun voice. "House. _Now."_

He shrugged and figured it would work quicker if he just let his father drag him inside, which he did. And of course Scott followed.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Sheriff Stilinski demanded.

"I didn't know he was the alpha dad."

Scott laughed but he shut up pretty quickly when Stiles' dad- who owns a freaking _gun _dumbass_- _looked at him.

"Aw c'mon Stiles, how could you not have known? He was driving a Mercedes."

Stiles didn't understand the relevance of that. Like all alphas drove flashy cars? Besides the only car he cared about he'd been forced to abandon in light of the recent kidnapping.

"He wasn't even driving. Otherwise I would have yelled at him first."

His dad actually slapped the palm of his hand against his face. Oh great he had his father face palming now, perfect.

"How did you not realise he was the alpha? The way everybody but you bared their necks in respect? But oh no- you had to tell him to kiss your ass!"

"You were there? Why didn't you stop me?" he argued back knowing it wasn't much of an excuse but hey he can't always be expected to pull his foot out of his own mouth. He wasn't exactly what you would call flexible in that way.

"Too many people," they both said in unison and Stiles felt oddly touched that it had occurred to them to try and prevent his stupidity. Maybe they did have his back after all.

"And then you pushed him, man. I just thought he'd kill you right there," Scott admitted looking shocked and awed by the idea of it which Stiles found just that little bit unnerving.

But then his dad shook his head. "No, you've seen Stiles he isn't to be taken seriously as a threat."

Stiles huffed in outrage but Scott was nodding as if it was the most plausible thing in the world. Well that's how it was he supposed, weaker than a girl scout and no tougher than a dandelion was their Stiles. If he'd bothered with an ego he was certain it would have been pulverised by now.

"And Stiles," his dad reached over and cuffed him across the back of his head.

"Ow!"

"Why the hell did you try and _run, _you idiot. Don't you listen in class?"

Scott was smirking at this and Stiles glared at him, betrayed when the soon to be ex best friend used his hand to cover his smile.

"It was fight or flight, dad! I had no choice the dude was totally about to eat me."

"Um Stiles. You do know that running is an invitation, right?" Scott asked him though his voice wavered as if he was struggling not to laugh.  
Traitor, Stiles thought. May he burn in the fieriest pits of hell. May Allison forever deny him sexual intercourse. May he be forever cockblocked by Mr and Mrs Argent. May he get extremely hairy and in serious need of a werewolf manicure and remain unattractive permanently.

His father face palmed again.

"I knew!" he cried hotly knowing full and well that he actually didn't know but he was pretending to. He glared at Scott to make him shut up about the obvious lie but it was unnecessary because apparently the Sheriff could see through teenagers and cuffed him about the head again.

"You know I could get serious brain damage," he complained rubbing the back of his skull sulkily.

"I'm wondering if you already do if you don't know that bit of information about werewolves!"

"So it's an invitation. So what? That's not my problem."

The Sheriff tried to cuff him again but Stiles, wise to the ways of his father ducked out of the way taking a few steps back for good measure. Scott shook his head in disbelief and Stiles really took a moment to appreciate that Scott actually knew something that he didn't. He'd never thought he'd see the day and yet here it was. It was like the apocalypse or something incredibly ironic. Hey maybe hell had frozen over too.

"It's an invitation to uh-how do I put this..." the Sheriff began shifting uncomfortably.

Scott blushed. Stiles glanced between them knowing he should be jumping ahead of this curve but honestly having no idea where it was leading.

"Screw you," Scott finally admonished and they all fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Stiles eyes bugged. He knew because he was currently straining to push them out of their sockets to see this non-reality better.

"But-but," he fumbled for words. "But I didn't...He didn't even ask my name!"

"Oh yes you did buddy," his dad said. "You didn't submit, you insulted him to his face, you physically attacked him and then you ran. You might have just served yourself up on a big silver platter."

Stiles felt his thoughts take a million different turns at once. "But dad you've studied alpha law. Isn't there some way I can get out of this?"

The Sheriff appeared to consider this for a moment, his eyebrows knitting in thought and Stiles felt guilty for adding so much stress to his father's life.

"What time is he coming back?"

There was no question about if and that was probably what scared Stiles the most. He was truly in this now. There was no escape. Derek owned him now. No. He refused to accept it. Stiles was a stubborn individual. He would not submit to Derek, the sexy alpha would have to kill him first.

"He said twenty four hours," Stiles told them.

Scott actually had the decency to stop laughing and take in the seriousness of the situation. His concern was touching though Stiles thought it would be easier to hate him forever and condemn him to a life of Stileslessness.

"Well you've offered yourself to him but he has to accept the claim first. If you can convince him otherwise before the next full moon then the offer goes stale. I think maybe you should try and call him, set up a meeting and then..."

He trailed off suddenly eyes narrowing as Stiles scratched at his neck. He could've sworn he was wearing his paying attention expression so he was surprised to suddenly be caught out. He smiled unconvincingly and nodded like he'd been listening to every word.

"Let me see your neck, Stiles," he asked quietly.

Stiles flinched and then felt his face heat up, in that very unattractive way he did whenever his dad mentioned anything remotely sexual in his presence. He tried to appear nonchalant but he was pretty sure it was time to throw in the towel, he'd already been nabbed. Sheriff Stilinksi unfortunately had a pretty damn good eye for details which led to a lot of awkward conversations.

"What this old neck? Nothing special going on here, nope."

Irrelevant because awkward was Stiles' speciality. It was clear in the way that he'd awkwardly offered his body to the alpha basically as his sexual chew toy. He really needed to start thinking things through more. Most of the time all he needed was just a little bit more attention to detail.

The Sheriff approached him slowly and Stiles tried to make a last minute ditch effort to dash up the stairs and into his bedroom but he was caught between Scott and his own long gangly limbs. Curses upon his own body!

Scott's face if possible, went a little redder and Stiles tried to pretend that he wasn't screaming internally or that the klaxons weren't screeching in his brain in warning. His expression undoubtedly said it all. His father sighed and sank down on the couch in defeat.

"Too late," he grumbled.

"Whaaaaaa?"

"He marked you," Scott explained patiently. "That means you're completely his."

"I'm not," he insisted.

"Every wolf you ever encounter will know it. I didn't realise but when you touched me before my wolf sensed it."

Stiles frowned. So he actually hadn't been pretending to be hurt when Stiles hit him. It had actually hurt to be touched by a claimed whatever he was.

"But it's not like I'm with him forever..." he lost his words at the look Scott gave him.

Oh god. He was with sexy Derek forever. No Lydia. Not ever. Well he supposed it wasn't that bad and Derek had given him one hell of an erection before so maybe he could... Oh lordy what was Stiles sexually deprived brain even considering? Was he going to sleep with Derek?

"That's why the submission thing is so important, Stiles," Scott continued. "Because the only reason a person won't submit is because they want to challenge a wolf for their role in the pack. Or they're their mate."

Stiles felt shattered by this new information. They were at Defcon one status here. He was now somebody's mate for fuck's sake. How completely messed up was that.

"He probably has plenty of mates," Stiles insisted, scrabbling desperately at straws but determined not to admit what everybody and himself was thinking. Denial was a powerful thing indeed.

"Stiles, man you know we only have one. And that we mate for life."

Of course he freaking knew. He'd listened to Scott whine about it for days when Mr Argent had forced him and Allison apart. He was surprised he hadn't taken his dad's shotgun and blown his face off at the time.

For a moment he considered the idea of living in a cave somewhere full of denial and singing tralalalalalalalalaalalala for the rest of his life. It seemed like a reasonable option. That or ending this unsatisfactory thing he understood to be his life. Maybe death by suicide was a better option. It might even be less painful than Derek sexing him up- he had heard that it could be agonizing. And he had about as much tolerance for pain as a little fluffy bunny rabbit which Derek probably chewed on for like snacks or something- with his _teeth._

"Uh I'm thinking I'll just go upstairs for a bit and die," he muttered nearly face planting when he tripped over his own feet trying to get there.

Scott the ever faithful Labrador followed after him and he tried to keep his inner panic on the inside of his body. He was already wheezing when he made it to his bedroom and that definitely was not something that he enjoyed very much.

He turned to Scott. "Quick," he rasped. "Slap me in the face."

_Smack. _Stiles wasn't sure if he was grateful or highly suspicious of Scott's enthusiasm but the pain distracted him for the moment and he was able to come back into himself just in time to move to the bathroom and throw up. Nice very nice.

"Dude gross," Scott whined backing away from him like he'd just developed leprosy. He wiped his mouth tasting bile and just loving life.

"Why did you follow me into the bathroom then, asshole? What did you think I was going to do?"

"I dunno, maybe drown yourself in the bathtub?" Scott guessed helpfully hauling Stiles to his feet, grimacing a little as he touched him. Right cause he was total alpha property now. "You're not exactly what I'd call predictable Stiles."

"And I didn't know you liked hitting me so much," Stiles countered. "Any particular reason you feel like beating on your best friend, Scotty?"

Scott rolled his eyes and pulled the very shaky Stiles back into his room dumping him on his bed. "C'mon Stiles even you knew that you were having a panic attack. I'm just trying to help."

Stiles squished himself into the mattress praying that he could just disappear into it forever. "Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "A little late for that."

He'd said it under his breath but of course werewolf hearing so Scott heard him. His friend cleared his throat awkwardly and Stiles felt an illogical sense of satisfaction at the sudden guilt trip.

"I'd better go let Allison know what's going on. She's really worried about you," he said. "I'll be back before you uh- leave tomorrow. Try and sleep for a bit, it might calm you down."

He patted Stiles calf muscle gently in an endearingly Scott McCall kind of way and suddenly Stiles felt better, well as good as the situation could allow. And it wasn't going to allow him much. And if this was his last night being an angsty teenager before you know the werewolf sex and stuff Stiles decided to go out with a bang.

And by bang he meant turn on the most depressing music he had ever heard and blare it through the house. Screw the neighbours. They weren't going to be his neighbours for long. He was having an major geographical shift in a matter of hours and the world was ending but somehow he fell asleep.

* * *

When he woke up it was considerably dark and his dad had finally taken pity on the neighbours and turned off his music. Stiles was impressed that he even knew how, maybe his dad would be fine living by himself. Or would Derek permit him to visit?

He scowled. No he was Stiles Stilinski and Derek was not going to give him permission to do anything, he was a free man and he intended to remain that way even if that meant being Derek's chew toy. He could just deal.

Scott had been right, sleeping had helped him get his shit together. He0 was reasonably in control of himself so he thought he'd roll with the good times and take a shower. Of course because his life sucked ass so incredibly hard, there was no hot water so he was shivering like a shaved werewolf wearing a bikini in Nebraska by the time he clambered out. He brushed his teeth too because he could still taste that bitter acrid taste of leftover bile in his mouth and slipped downstairs to grab something to eat because he was freaking starving. It was two in the morning but his dad was still awake.

"You hungry?" his dad asked when he spotted him entering the kitchen.

"I am so hungry that I feel like I could eat several horses. Or maybe just a couple of those small ones, you know the ones that look like they've been hit by a shrink ray but really haven't because thats how they are- small and looking really appetising at the moment-"

"Stiles," his father sighed and he rectified his initial statement to.

"Yes hungry. Very hungry."

And then his father shoved a plate of hot food towards him as a reward so he couldn't complain really. They sat in companionable silence and Stiles realised just how much he was going to miss this.

"I want a few words with him when he arrives so don't let him whisk you away so easily."

"Do I look like someone who can be whisked?" he asked and the look his father gave him encouraged a sudden intense interest in the bowl of leftover Chinese he was eating. It was like a Medusa kind of glare where eye contact would only destroy him. He shovelled the food into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in weeks instead of just hours.

"And if he ever hurts you, you just call me Stiles and I'll come get you alpha law be damned."

Stiles smiled around his food and tried to pretend that it wasn't totally badass and awesome that his dad, the Sheriff was willing to break the law for him. Of course he didn't want to; he couldn't have his father dragged into his delinquent depths just by association. He knew no matter what he'd never call his dad. He couldn't let him put himself or his career in jeopardy on Stile's behalf.

He just didn't roll that way being the selfless reincarnation of Mother Teresa that he was so letting himself be dad-napped from Hale was not looking good option-wise. There was however something that Stiles could do about the situation.

"Hey dad do you still have that paperwork copy on alpha law?" he asked pushing away his empty bowl. "I think it's about time I brushed up on some stuff,"  
Sheriff Stilinksi nodded but he rolled his eyes at the same time.

"Better late than never," he noted in his Sheriff lecture tone and Stiles smiled innocently up at him.

If he was going to make life hard for Derek then he at least needed to play by his rules. The alpha law could be the noose that he would hang the man with. Research was his forte. He took the wad of paperwork back upstairs to his room, and started reading.

For this battle ground he was going to need all the material he could get his hands on. And it felt good being proactive about the situation although it was still tempting to scream at the top of his lungs into his pillow and beat his fists all manly like against his mattress.

For now the research thing seemed like a reasonable plan. He'd get back to the mattress tantrum later.

* * *

It was dark when the stupid sleek Mercedes pulled into their driveway. His father had forced him to pack a bag of clothing though it had been the most difficult thing in his life and he'd procrastinated so much that he'd only packed bunches upon bunches of socks, but his dad hadn't figured that out yet and what his dad didn't know couldn't hurt Stiles.

He was annoyed at the little thrill that went through him when he spotted Derek, still in that freaking leather jacket like he was some kind of bike riding gangster and was even more annoyed when Derek looked up at his window like Stiles had called out his name and _smirked._

He tripped himself in his haste to back away, stuffing the alpha law mountain of paperwork under his pillow, praying that Derek would never ever see his room. He practically launched himself downstairs knowing that alpha law prevented harm coming to the parents of mates but he still didn't trust Derek alone with his dad.

Laws were always made to be broken. Scott was muttering something behind him probably jealousy about Derek's flash car or something and Stiles made his way into the living room preparing for the worst.

They were sitting on the couch together like they had just become best friends. His dad even chuckled at something Derek said. Traitor. Nobody was worthy of the friendship Stiles bestowed upon them. He'd be better off all alone, forever talking to himself. At least that meant there would be reasonable conversation.

"Um hi there big, wolfy alpha man," Stiles greeted in his usual eloquent way of communicating to the human species. Derek looked at him in this intense- I'm going to do so many sexy things to you- kind of way and Stiles tried pitifully to keep his head in the game and out of his pants.

And then Scott entered the room and the shit totally hit the fan. He didn't really do anything but it was the close proximity that had the alpha growling dangerously and moving so quickly towards Stiles that he was a blur.

He pulled Stiles' 147 pounds of nothing as far away from Scott as possible in the limited space. The Sheriff had his mouth open and Stiles was worried Derek was about to flip the couch in his haste.

The alpha law was illuminating enough to tell him the alpha saw Scott as a threat to his mate and was staking a claim before Scott could issue a challenge and they would fight to the death. Great.

"Stiles," Derek rumbled in this completely weird acknowledgement that he did in fact know his name. Well he'd probably asked his driver to google it for him last night or something.

"Hey it's okay he's just-" he broke off into a desperate moan when Derek bit down on his neck again, harsher than before in his effort to emphasise his ownership of Stiles. It was like he was the last plate of food at the dinner table or something.

His face was flushed and his dad dropped his gaze at the total sex noise that Derek had drawn from his lips but thankfully Scott had received the message loud and clear and was offering his neck to the wolf in submission.

This seemed to satisfy Derek but Stiles neck was freaking throbbing and he tried to pull away but Derek wouldn't release him.

"Oh my god would you just-" he struggled again. "He's just my best friend not a freaking sex worker!"

Derek voice rumbled dangerously beside his throat so naturally Stiles kept talking.

"Seriously you can put me down now. Claim seen loud and clear. Scott is not a threat. My dad is not a threat and- hey what are you doing?" he shrieked as Derek proceeded to drag him out of house without another word.

"Hey, hey what the hell happened to that courtesy thing?" he demanded. "Don't I even get to say goodbye to my dad, asshole?"

Derek growled in warning but his mouth came over the bite again, mouthing at it with his tongue and Stiles was suddenly not so coherent anymore, moaning wantonly against the sensation. He really needed to get laid soon. He still tried to pull away, it was a pathetic attempt but it made him feel that much better that he didn't just roll over.

Thankfully Derek released him but not before taking the shell of his ear between his teeth and nibbling gently leaving Stiles a desperate mess of teen pheromones and hormonal sexitude.

"Don't touch Scott," he commanded in his badass alpha tone and Stiles pretended to take it into consideration.

He hurried back to his father but Derek didn't approach the group again. Scott was practically shitting himself anyway which on any other day would have been freaking hilarious, a total Kodak moment.

The Sheriff pulled him into an awesome dad hug putting all the encouragement Stiles needed into that brief act of affection and when they pulled apart he realised his medication was suddenly in his hands.

"You forgot," his father explained. "Now Derek," he turned to the man not bothering to raise his voice because duh Derek could hear them from where he was. "You make sure my son keeps up with his schoolwork or we'll have a problem."

Alpha Hale nodded his gaze not breaking away from Stiles for a second. It was a little bit creepy in an don't go out in the woods tonight, no really, cause that dude will be waiting for you kind of way. Stiles turned to his best friend who still hadn't managed to get his shit together after the alpha showdown.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Dude at least pretend you're not crying like a little girl on the inside," he said.

Scott managed a weak, watery smile and for a horrified moment Stiles thought there would be tears but then Scott inclined his head in a hey look Mr alpha I'm not touching your property I swear kind of movement.

Stiles sighed and then threw his arms around Scott anyway. Derek's snarl of outrage was enough to make it completely worth it.

"See ya round Scotty," he grinned saluting them both with a lazy hand before he was literally _whisked _into the air and bundled into Derek's Mercedes like nobody's business.

"How's it going there Jeeves," Stiles said feeling the need to acknowledge his knew arch nemesis who was the cause of this entire mess. The driver didn't respond but Stiles reckoned that he acknowledged on a deeper level their upgraded status as true enemies for the rest of his continued existence. Nothing personal.

They pulled out of the driveway with Stiles trapped tightly in Derek's grip as the alpha went to town on his neck marking him all over, trying to scent him as much as possible. Stiles knew that it was only a further extension of his claim so he let the big stupid alpha do it, not because it made him hot in his trousers, no siree.

Not for that reason at all. He squirmed all over the place trying not to be so vocal but it was a lost cause for certain. Derek was like a sex machine and Stiles was totally helpless to his charms in the little space with no room for escape. But they were going to Derek's house, which was no doubt big and ostentatious and had plenty of space for him to hide from the wolfman. He wasn't intending to be helpless for long.

It took about fifteen minutes to get there but by then Stiles was utterly boneless and adjusting his trousers uncomfortably before Derek was whisking him out of the car before the driver could so much as blink, before whisking him into the house. Yes whisking. Stiles was being whisked.

He carried Stiles like he was some sort of accessory like a freaking handbag for Christ sakes and it was clear that his dad had been right unfortunately. Turns out he could be whisked if Derek was doing the whisking. But that didn't mean Stiles wouldn't put up a fight. Derek was about to see just how stubborn a Stilinksi could be when their mind was put to it.

He almost felt sorry for the alpha but then Derek accidently brushed against his rock, hard erection and any compassionate feelings fled as Derek no doubt carried him towards the bedroom.

"I don't know if you've noticed this," Stiles continued. "But I'm really not mate material. I mean look how breakable I am and as much as I'm flattered I have no doubt in my mind that you could- you know break me and everything so if you could just-"

"I'll be gentle," Derek growled and Stiles was shocked momentarily into silence.

Oh God. The Sexy time was now? He was so fucking screwed! Or about to be, by a werewolf, to death because he literally was a twig that could snap in the breeze. And broad shouldered strong and muscular alpha Derek was totally going to sex him up. Shit. Shit. Oh shit.

"You know," he continued desperately. "I compiled a list of reasons why this was a bad idea on the way over here and I feel that as the alpha it is your duty to take this into consideration. So uh- reason one um, I possess the equal toughness of a girl scout, no less even. How could that possibly help your rep? Reason two, uh- clearly I am a full blooded all American male and so are you-"

"I can make it work," Derek muttered now climbing a tower of stairs.

Stiles prayed Derek would drop him. Death by stairs seemed less painful. Stiles politely ignored the admission of homosexuality for the moment preferring to keep that as the big ass elephant in the room that nobody talked about ever.

"Reason three. I accidentally challenged you. It was a total case of mistaken identity and I apologise but I'm not your mate and this has been a total mistake-"

"No mistake," Derek snarled his words getting shorter and more abrupt as his wolf rose to the surface. "Mine."

Stiles shuddered in his grip. Wolfsex he was totally about to become the prime example for bestiality. It was all over he was just going to keel over and die.

They made it to the bedroom and Derek deposited Stiles in a surprisingly gentle manner before crawling over him and proceeding to scent every inch of him. Even the really ticklish parts. Stiles was giggling before he could stop himself but then Derek nosed at his tented pants and Stiles yelped dragging himself further up the bed and out of reach.

"Wait! Wait," he cried and Derek growled, eyes flashing red in warning. "You've got to wait for me to respond to the claim first!"

Wolf Derek paused, totally wolfed out but even he could recognise alpha law. Stiles nearly wept with relief as normal Derek came back to join the party.

"It won't take long," he said gruffly grabbing Stiles ankle and yanking him back down the bed towards him. Stiles shrieked knowing this was the end of his short second life as Stiles Stilinski but Derek only nipped playfully at his neck.

"Full moon's coming up," he warned. "You won't be able to say no."

"Try me," Stiles argued back folding his arms in a poor attempt to look tough. Derek shook his head as if he could believe that anyone could be so stupid but he moved away going to the door and making Stiles miss the warm heat that being pinned by his body provided.

"You'll sleep in my bed," Derek commanded. "I'll take the guest room."

Stiles eyes widened. That was it? It was that easy? Whatever happened to the whole I will make you want me sexual advances Derek had bestowed upon him earlier? Why didn't he do this before Derek started nibbling on his neck and carrying him around like he was his own personal man bag? Derek waved a hand in front of his face and his brain rebooted.

"What?"

"I asked are you hungry, Stiles."

"God yes. I'm starving, I'm so hungry that I could eat-"

But Derek had already left the room and Stiles fantastically worded comments went unheeded.

Oh yes. This was going to work very well. And full moon meant like mating heat, as in sexy time heat. The intercourse of sexuality heat, the werewolf coitus heat, the full on bestiality heat.

Derek was going to break him in _half_.

Stiles doubted he would last the week.


	3. Nein

Enjoy!

* * *

**Nein.**

For some unbelievably stupid reason Stiles had expected people to forget what he had done to alpha Hale in front of the hundreds of Beacon Hills townsfolk two days before. He'd figured the whole thing would have blown over already like one of those tumbleweeds in an incredibly cheesy old westerner film.

Stiles was never good at predicting people, they were a weird alien race of stupidity that made him disdain for the progression of civilization and basically induced tears.

He was surprised that Derek drove him to school that morning though. The night- despite his misgivings- had been sort of normal. Unlike the rumours there weren't billions of workers running around the Hale household, in fact it had been pretty abandoned.

Derek seemed like the type of dude to sit all alone in a big empty house in the darkness, he just gave off that kind of creeper vibe. Stiles figured all of that stalking was bound to make him a person of interest in the Sheriff's department but maybe because he was the alpha they gave him certain liberties like a particularly sarcastic breed of Stiles to chew on and cuddle with. And screw if Stiles ever let him.

Although technically there had been a lack of either on his first night in Derek's den of dastardly deeds. In fact the night had been suspiciously normal. Derek had made him dinner and damn, the alpha could cook. Stiles had nearly died from the orgasmic bliss of the chow he'd shovelled happily down his throat, Derek watching him just as hungrily.

It hadn't taken him too long to get used to the idea that hottie-hot-hotness Derek Hale wanted to jump his bones. But like not just then, but like every second and every minute of every day. He wanted Stiles whilst he ate, wanted him when he spoke, wanted him when he so much as breathed air. His eyes were basically the prelude to a porn film; Stiles couldn't function under such an intense gaze.

He wondered how other people managed it without wetting themselves. But then realised they probably weren't stupid enough to look an alpha in the eye, or push him in the chest, or tell him to kiss their ass and insult him, or basically tell him to shove it, or try to run from him when realising who he was, or- to put it simply, Stiles wasn't winning any prizes in the intelligent actions department. And he probably wasn't going to in the future either.

In fact he'd probably won the trophy for best-depiction-of-complete-dumbassery-and-really-you-didn't-know-running-is-a-sexual-green-light-for-werewolves? prize. Yeah or maybe like a golden embossed plaque or one of those novelty sized cheques or whatever. Either way he was sure they'd engrave that on his tombstone.

But even if Derek was interested in a good Stiles fucking he couldn't do anything until Stiles claimed him back. At least that was what Alpha law stated and they could be like fifty or dead before Stiles made his move- he was a bit of a procrastinator. He didn't trust Derek's overconfidence about the whole heat thing either, the alpha was probably trying to trick him or something because he was a) human very very, brutally, fragile break if touched, _human _and b) he was pretty sure that the whole heat rutting against walls activity was a werewolf thing and therefore not his problem and c) he'd totally found a pretty badass hiding place if Derek's wolf got too handsy.

He'd found it when Derek had taken him on a tour of his den of dastardly deeds and wore his poker face the entire time so as to not make him suspicious of his intentions of using it as a potential hiding place in the near future. But it was pretty freaking hard to act like he wasn't plotting diabolical and possibly Stiles saving endeavours with Derek focused on him so fixedly. It was pretty gratifying to have that kind of power over the alpha who was just waiting for Stiles to give him the go ahead to sex him up.

Not that he was thinking about it. At all. Derek stayed pretty much his indifferent and stoic self as the first night wore on but astonishingly he was revealed to possess the capability to listen to Stiles ramble in his presence and actually understand what he was saying, a feat on its own. Granted he was pretty nervous, tensed for any unwanted sexy werewolf moves but Derek kept his hands to himself even when Stiles almost face planted after missing a step on the grand staircase.

But the way he watched Stiles seemed like a neon flashing sign of how much he didn't want to, keep his hands to himself. It made Stiles feel pretty damn sexy actually and he was almost tempted to tease the alpha a bit. But Derek was still listening to him and that was surprisingly nice, plus he hadn't tried to hit him or shut him up with his mouth. Or tongue. Or mouth and tongue.

But Stiles wasn't disappointed about that nope.

Even his own father got lost on the perfectly reasonable tangents Stiles' conversation took. It was like a rollercoaster ride of crazy and even he was willing to admit that most of the time he wasn't speaking regular human English. He couldn't help it really, he just got too enthusiastic about things and his words transformed into total gibberish. But it was like Derek somehow understood him, which made no sense whatsoever because let's face it nobody understood Stiles but the thought that Derek might, happened to be pretty damn awesome.

Except he seriously wanted to screw Stiles in every room of his house and Stiles had to keep acting like the thought of this hadn't crossed his mind and that it didn't bother him.

And. That. Was. Pretty. Damn.

_Awkward._

But he didn't even try any funny business. No sneaking into bed with Stiles in the middle of the night to feel him up, no accidental groping or anything and Stiles was forced to use a helping hand on himself in the shower the next morning to calm his very unsatisfied sexual appetite which he was sure Derek could smell. The alpha bastard.

And even when he'd walked out of said shower with nothing but a towel- because duh he'd only packed a duffel bag full of socks- Derek had retrieved him some clothes without even attempting to see what was underneath. Although he did force his leather jacket onto Stiles as like some weird sort of werewolf initiation thing but it smelled really good and was actually pretty damn comfortable so Stiles didn't really protest all that much. But that was about as close to any action that Stiles got.

He knew Derek was scenting him too, with the whole wearing his clothes thing so Stiles just figured it was best to roll with it, maybe not press his luck too much with the alpha because he didn't really want to die via werewolf sex.

But really what kind of asshole kidnapped somebody and then didn't have their sexy way with them? It was like he'd freaking done everything backwards or something. Everything was upside down, it was like freaking wonderland.

The alpha had cooked him a to-die-for breakfast and he was in a pleasantly goofy mood when Derek didn't offer but dragged Stiles to the car so he could drive him to school.

They were parked out the front and Stiles was watching as people started noticing the flash car and Stiles Stilinksi sitting in it. He wondered what Jackson would think about that. He spotted Scott lingering in the doorway and knew the guy was waiting for the totally PG retelling of his first night with Derek. Sigh.

He fumbled with the seatbelt, not sure what the conventions of alpha law said about an alpha doing him a solid dropping him off at school instead of being forced to take the bus. Should he say thank you? Or spread his legs and tell him to take him now?

"Uh..." he began wrenching at the seat belt like it was trying to strangle him. He may have been freaking out about Derek, about them in the enclosed space and the fact that Derek might want to kiss him goodbye. He didn't know what he was going to do about that, except maybe have a heart attack and die. Just for starters.

The seat belt practically whiplashed him back into the seat as he tried to escape and Derek leaned in, impossibly close. Stiles went still in preparation to be seriously ravished before school, lips opening invitingly and everything. But then Derek merely freed him from the seat and drew back. What kind of sissy alpha didn't try to sexually accost his mate at every opportunity?

"Don't do anything stupid," Derek growled as if it was expected of Stiles.

Stiles couldn't believe that now of all times Derek was playing hard to get. What a total teasing jerk. He scowled and grabbed his school bag flinging it over his leathered shoulder because he was in a bikey werewolf gang nowadays, scowling to himself because Derek was totally withholding his hot mouth and talented tongue and Stiles was not okay with that. No sir. Bitches would pay for this indiscretion.

And if he was feeling bitchy...

"See you later, honey," he said unable to resist blowing a kiss at Derek's you-are-so-dead-right-now -you're-a-corpse expression. It was his favourite descriptive alpha facial. Because it was of the limited variety, what with him being a robotic android from the future who didn't possess human emotion. Stiles was sure that if he even saw a hint of a smile he was likely to die of heart failure from the shock.

He slipped out of the car before the alpha really lost his temper because Stiles knew that wasn't going to help his whole existing thing and he scampered away from the car as Derek left the school parking lot, screeching tires squealing across the black top and drawing more attention to him.

Yeah, thanks a lot Derek you smug asshole.

Scott rushed forward to meet him but Stiles held a hand up to stop the Scott McCall dive bomb of questions, feeling pretty damn frustrated with this whole stupid alpha mate thing.

"I'm fine," he muttered. "Virtue intact and all."

Scott looked confused. "Then why do you sound disappointed?"

Stiles flushed and managed an awkward chuckle. It sucked that he was so transparent. Subject change required asap.

"So umbrellas huh- I mean what is up with them? Are they meant to repel water? Or be used as weapons to poke people's eyes out? I mean do they even-"

A muscled shoulder slammed into him nearly sending him face first into the pavement. He barely kept himself upright and it was not a graceful manoeuvre. There was definitely flailing limbs.

"Aw look, it's the alpha's bitch," Jackson sneered barely glancing back at them. Stiles angrily straightened himself up to full gangly height, tempted to shake his fist like those old geezers did at young kids having fun and disrupting bitter, old, geezer time.

"Hey, look at that Scott, Jackson earned the power of _observation. _I wonder what gave it away, was it maybe when I yelled at the alpha in front of the entire town?"

Jackson moved as if to double back and teach him a lesson but he seemed to think better of it and Stile knew exactly why.

"Yeah, keep on walking your beta ass to homeroom," Stiles called after him knowing Jackson wouldn't retaliate. He wasn't that stupid. Even if he already thought he was king shit as a werewolf.

"Uh, nice jacket Stiles," Scott said scenting the air for the very clear smell of alpha.

Stiles smiled evilly. "Those are some nice sideburns there, Scotty did you grown them yourself?"

Scott took the hint.

* * *

School was uneventful except for the fact that everybody knew that he was the alpha's bitch and kept drifting between awe and fear of him. Because apparently it was a difficult decision to make what with Stiles Stilinski being such a terrifying individual. He felt like even more of a freak but on the plus side his diabolical schemes had more of a possibility of coming into fruition then they ever had before- what with all this new power. Well, power by badass alpha werewolf association. But still, it counted.

But then life just got really freaking ridiculous. Because when he was sitting in the cafeteria with Scott and Allison who was sitting one table away- but technically sitting with them in secret- Lydia, beautiful and utterly perfectly strawberry blonde, hazel eyed, Lydia took a seat in front of him.

"So do you have a death wish or was there some unknown reason why you offered yourself up to an alpha?" Lydia asked.

Stiles couldn't believe that it had taken a freaking alpha werewolf to get her to actually _talk _to him. For once he was totally speechless. The universe really couldn't resist shitting on the little guy. Did he have bad karma or something? Was this because of that bird he accidentally pulverised with his jeep the other day? Speaking of, was his dad treating his baby right?

His silence didn't seem to deter her. "From a psychological point of view it has some merit into the psyche of homosexuality."

Oh well, that was nice. She was making him into her little hot science babe test experiment. Wait.

Homo- what?

Did she just gay zone him? Because she'd never bothered to become friends first?

"I'm not!" he protested but Lydia shushed him.

"It became clear when you propositioned the alpha yesterday. Must feel great to finally be honest with yourself," She said totally ignoring his agonised expression as Scott snickered. "Anyway I'd love to profile you if you have free time, Stiles."

"I'm free," he said without thinking. "I'm so free I'm practically a bird in flight."

"Great," Lydia replied pursing her luscious lips in what Stiles would insist until his dying day was a smile and then she disappeared, strawberry blonde curls catching the sunlight streaming into the cafeteria because even the sun knew that she was a goddess.

Stiles sat there gaping like a fish until he was fully capable of motor functions to consider that Lydia Martin had actually spoken to him.

"Dude, please tell me you witnessed that and it was not an Adderall induced hallucination," he finally managed staring at the empty doorway as if he could bring her back with the power of his mind alone.

"Did you miss the part where she said you were gay for Derek?" Scott asked, always the freaking buzkill.

Stiles grinned. "Lydia Martin spoke to me. And she knew my name. Nothing can ruin this glorious moment for me Scott, nothing."

"Not even the gay thing?" Scott asked bemused.

Stiles was always an opportunist never mind the many opportunities he'd given Lydia Martin to confess her undying love and fall into his arms so they could continue their blossoming romance forever and ever, so help him God, amen. But he was always trying to find the bright side of things; the bright side here being Lydia had finally spoken to him after years of total indifference. Sure it was so she could profile him psychologically but hey, at least she was the first to offer the service.

And there was no denying that he needed to be psychologically screened.

But now it was clear that she was ready to select him as her one and only, baby for the rest of time.

And he had Derek to thank for it. Oh. Right.

He probably shouldn't be forgetting his werewolf hubby so quickly. After all, the alpha jerk wanted to fuck his virgin brains out even if it totally crushed his body into tiny, miniscule pieces in the process. And Stiles had to respect this devirginalising effort, even if it was at his own expense.

"I'll take what I can get," he said finally.

And a smile lit up his face like a freaking Christmas tree but he didn't care because nothing could ruin this fantastic and momentous day. The day Lydia finally gave into her primal urges and acknowledge the deep connection between them.

Finally. And if that meant he would talk about his gay feelings for Derek then so be it.

* * *

The happy go lucky times didn't last very long. Not that they usually did or anything but still the moment in itself was fleeting. It was last period science and Mr Harris- after making a comment about functionality of Stile's brain to encourage further self loathing- had switched on a film and plunged the classroom into darkness.

Scott fell asleep instantly and Allison, sitting only seats away had this strained expression on her face like she wanted to go and stroke his hair or something though clearly couldn't because her dad would shoot him. But that was all part of Stile's normal day.

What wasn't normal was that Erica, newly changed Erica- who's parents had forked out some serious cash to even get her considered for bite month- had leant across her table to talk to him. Or possibly just invade his space and creep him the hell out, both of which she succeeded at.

Stiles hadn't really spoken to her that much before but he understood why, at least in her case, she'd decided to become a werewolf. She was an epileptic and her seizures were pretty freaking disturbing- the only one he'd witnessed had completely traumatised him- but it had been for prudents sake only and he understood why she'd done it. The bite had made her normal. Well, normal-ish.

Bite month was the time allocated to werewolves to create more werewolves, but in fully regulated and in controlled conditions. First they had to want the bite, it was against alpha law to change somebody without their permission because in the beginning when werewolves had become a real and legitimate thing, things had gotten pretty hairy.

Scott had been bitten. It had been pretty bad, Stiles had practically carried him through most of it, helping him get control until the alpha law came around forbidding the bite unless it was bite month and you'd filled out a bunch of paperwork, signed over like a dozen forms, sold half your soul and basically kissed a lot of asses to get it.

Stiles was fairly sure only a certain amount of new werewolves were permitted each month, in every town. The humans didn't want to be outnumbered and it had to be pretty special circumstances for you to want it.

Like Erica for example.

"Uh hey," he muttered awkwardly as she sent him this uber creepy I will kill you in your sleep smile.

"I can't believe the alpha made _you _his bitch," Erica growled low in her throat so nobody would notice over the obvious conversations making their way around the room. Even Mr Harris was talking on his cell phone.

Was anybody watching the film except Stiles?

"Oh-kay," he said wondering where this was leading. "Pretty sure nobody can make you believe it, though you might make yourself look stupid seeing as it actually happened."

She reached out and grabbed his wrist in a killer kung fu death grip that had him wincing. She glanced at Derek's jacket, nose wrinkling and he figured she could smell the alpha on him. Scott snored soundly away in the seat next to him but Allison was watching the exchange with wide eyes and he was starting to feel a little cursed here like he may or not be an actual magnet for trouble.

And maybe Derek was right to be worried. Don't do anything stupid. Did that include getting beat up by a werewolf chic?

"Ow, ow, ow," he whined. "Your nails need serious work, girlfriend."

And then Erica nearly yanked him across the aisle towards her so she could rip his face off. Which would be unfortunate because he actually liked his face attached to his skull.

"Oh God, I'm gonna die," he muttered. "And then Derek's gonna find out, and then you're gonna die- ow!"

He nearly face planted into the leg of her table but that was only because she suddenly released him and gravity wanted Stiles face smooshed like pronto. He only just managed to grasp the edge of his own table, clinging onto it for dear life as he dragged himself back into an upright position.

The guy sitting beside Erica, Isaac Lahey, had intervened because Stiles clearly wore that kicked puppy look and the dude was unable to resist his charms.

"Stop it," Isaac said sharply and Stiles almost wanted to swoon and cry my hero which would have worked a lot better if he were wearing a dress and had boobs but the impulse was there. He almost thanked him for it too, but then Isaac continued with,

"He's the alpha's."

And then Stiles figured maybe he would just skip the damsel in distress instincts altogether especially if the only thing keeping him safe was the fact that he was alpha property. Whatever happened to Stiles' rights?

"No, I'm not," he insisted in a highly counterproductive fashion. It was like he was giving her a reason to wail on him after school and steal his lunch money.

Erica laughed, sniffing the air. "You're right. You have that distinct smell of _virgin, _Stiles. Doesn't the alpha want you?"

He shrugged, not liking how she'd made that little, awkward fact common knowledge and felt even more offended that she'd mentioned Derek not wanting him. If that wasn't a punch right to the ego he didn't know what was. Self esteem? where he was going he wouldn't need self esteem.

"I'm saving myself for Lon Chaney Jr," He said but they both looked at him blankly. "Seriously? The original wolfman? How can you call yourselves werewolves, you heathens."

This didn't seem to affect them much because they both looked away from him and huddled closer to continue whispering. And sure he'd clearly just been deemed uninteresting but he kept listening anyway cause it's not like it was difficult to hear, werewolf hearing or not. The tables in the lab were pretty close together, no privacy.

"It's not going to matter who he's saving himself for come Saturday," Isaac noted and Erica growled in warning. Saturday was the full moon which meant werewolf death heat. Fantastic.

He strained to hear more.

"I hope Derek kills him," Erica said conspiratorially. Also a possibility. Stiles wasn't sure he had it in him to survive a round of sexual intercourse with a werewolf let alone an alpha. He was clearly going to die, although death by sex admittedly didn't sound so bad.

And then the bell rang signalling the end of school before he could lean over and tell her just how much he wanted to live and not be murdered by his alpha boyfriend.

Scott scrambled to cover his ears but at least now he was awake, after having missed everything remotely interesting ever. Thank you, Scott once again for your wonderful help. Allison moved towards them, concern written all over her face and Stiles was tempted to run for it because explaining how much his alpha hadn't really done anything to him, as per his wishes, and that Erica seemed to believe he should die which in itself was pretty strange because Stiles couldn't recall irritating her enough to incite these feelings was going to be a bitch.

Oh. Derek. Derek, the sex God Derek. Right.

Stiles was just in Erica's way. It felt like he was doing that with everybody lately. Was he really a roadblock masquerading as a troubled teen with serious attention span issues? Allison followed Stiles to his locker and Scott kept his distance to help their not-dating-nope charade along. They may as well have started tonsil hockey for how obvious they were being.

"Are you okay?" she asked as he retrieved his bag, throwing it over one shoulder and distantly wondering if he could get away with sneaking home to see his dad. How quickly would Derek figure it out?

"That looked pretty tense?" she observed making it sound like a question as if she was trying to get him to open up without being pushy about it. How did a family that is employed to hunt rogue werewolves produce somebody so nice?

"Well I guess I can double back and pick up my masculinity later," he admitted. "So all is not completely lost."

They made their way through the main hallway, Scott several metres behind them looking really fascinated by his shoelaces. Stiles rolled his eyes but he was glad he had them both to back him up.

"Don't listen to them," she insisted. "Everybody's just worked up over this situation. It's pretty big news."

Stiles laughed, as they walked out into the sunshine of the fading afternoon. "I seriously doubt-"

And then he noticed the parking lot. It was filled with network vans though Stiles could confidently say that Beacon Hills only had one local news channel. There were so many of them, crowded into the school parking lot like some wicked game of Tetris, cameramen ready and waiting.

For Stiles. Oh shit.

"That's him!"

He spotted Erica's nasty smirk of satisfaction before they stampeded.

He was literally swept into the crowd, lenses and microphones pointing towards his face as flash upon flash went off, blinding and stunning him. They were screaming questions at him at a million miles an hour, questions that overlapped different voices and even he couldn't understand the garbled speech.

He did try to get the hell out of the little bubble of horror but they'd surrounded him leaving no possible room to escape and he was trapped. There was no air to breathe. He almost called out to Scott but then he spotted him a couple metres away though it may have been a bottomless chasm of distance and his hands were already full trying to pull Allison to her feet, preventing her from getting trampled.

And all because she'd been standing next to Stiles trying to see if he was okay. His stomach literally dropped out of him and he wondered if throwing up would make a good story for them to report instead.

Where had they all come from?

"Mr Stilinski, are you aware that you are the youngest ever mate to be claimed by an alpha?" a voice burst through the hubbub of interviewers.

Stiles blinked stupidly back at them. They were shoving him all over the place and he was struggling to keep upright whilst totally panicking. That tended to happen when you were about to be devoured by the media. This was something out of nightmares.

And then suddenly there were protesters chanting at them in unison appearing out of nowhere with signs and marching like they were about to take on freaking Stalin or something and not weaker-than-a-girl-scout Stiles.

This was almost worse than the alpha festival where Derek's driver had almost killed him.

"Stop the werewolf plague!" They yelled. "The bite is a curse!"

Stiles knew they should call the riot squad, only the Sheriff's department didn't have one because they were so short staffed this month because of an injury and maternity leave. And they probably never would get one because it was Beacon Hills and nobody who lived here ever rioted.

Except today.

The media and the protestors blended in together and surged as one entity, fighting and pushing and screaming and demanding his attention. He could only look in so many places at once and it was utter chaos.

One of the protestors got close, too close reaching out and scratching the side of his face, fingernails digging into his skin as the blood burst forth. He cried out in pain as the woman, because she was a woman, with an ugly sneer of hatred warping her face, yanked his ear towards her twisted mouth.

"Your mother would be so proud," she snarled, releasing him and disappearing into the chaos again.

Stiles whimpered, clutching at his bleeding face, lashing out blindly as he struggled to calm down because he couldn't breathe. Your mother would be so proud. He clenched his eyes shut and tried to calm himself down like he'd taught himself to after his mother-

Would be so proud.

He hunched forward, trying to find an anchor in this mess. There was no Scott to slap him out of it this time, this was all down to being in control of his panic.

It was impossible. His chest tightened and he could feel everything seizing up as he gasped for air. He was distantly aware that he was saying something but he couldn't comprehend anything, searing pain had taken over his senses.

He really was going to die. It was no joke this time. And he would see _her _again_..._

Your mother would be so proud.

A terrible sound reverberated through the hysteria, a non-human howl of rage and fury that didn't ask, but commanded respect. His gut twisted, the instinct to do whatever was required of the animal behind this sound flooding through every fibre of his being. He could feel the hierarchy of power at play and knew that every other werewolf and human could sense it too.

Alpha.

The screaming started, true terror and he could breathe again as the bodies pressed up against him scrambled away. Claws seized him around the neck wrenching him from the pandemonium as protestors and reporters fled the scene.

The blood had slid across his face mixing with tears as wolf Derek dragged him towards his car. He was still muttering something but only now in the quickly emptying parking lot could he understand what he was saying.

"Derek, Derek."

He'd been repeating the alpha's _name._ Over and over again like a broken record. Wolf Derek growled softly before lapping at the wound on his face with his tongue. Stiles protested weakly at this but didn't have the strength left in him to bother fighting it, so he went limp in his arms and let wolf Derek finish his work.

Only by the time he'd looked up at him again he wasn't wolf Derek anymore. Actual Derek was staring down at him with a combination of rage and concern. Stiles hoped he hadn't killed anybody.

And that Scott and Allison were okay.

Derek pulled him into the front seat of the car, in the driver seat and onto his lap, snarling when Stiles tried to crawl over to the passenger side. He drove out of the school so fast that Stiles hadn't even had time to register they were on the road yet, woods racing by as Derek accelerated way past the legal limit for speed. Stiles felt it was an emergency so he let it slide, just once. He wasn't really in the right state to be concerned with obeying the law.

His face was still stinging but he wasn't crying a river of blood anymore so that made him feel a little better. Plus Derek was extremely warm. The fact that he was distressed because of Stiles and was comforting him was new and he had to admit he liked it.

"I thought I said nothing stupid," Derek growled and then they were immediately back to their perfect stranger relationship.

He sighed. "That's really open to interpretation. Did you mean stupid in a generalised way? Or don't initiate stupidity? Or did you mean-"

"I meant," Derek growled, voice low and dangerous. "Don't. Do. Anything. Stupid."

"Right gotcha," he squeaked totally shitting his pants as Derek very nearly wolfed out again.

They pulled into the driveway of Derek's den of dastardly deeds and the alpha wouldn't let him go until they were inside the gigantic werewolf mansion, fortified by high walls and bullet proof glass and what not.

Derek pulled him up the grand staircase and Stiles glanced out the window at the crowd already gathering around the front of the estate. So that meant going out for pizza was off the table. He wondered if he should offer his dad's services, technically all those reporters were trespassing.

But he was yanked into the ensuite of Derek's bedroom and the alpha started to pull off his jacket.

"Whoa, whoa hold the phone there!" Stiles protested scampering away from Derek's large hands. "What are you doing?"

"You're showering," Derek snarled, still a little bit too wolfy for Stiles' taste. "You smell like people."

Stiles scoffed. "God forbid I smell like people. How unnatural is that?"

Derek snarled again, his eyes going red and Stiles tried to pretend he wasn't suffering a cardiac arrest.

"People and werewolves."

"People and-"

"Stiles you either start taking off your clothes or I rip them apart. Got it?"

"Getting it," Stiles replied quickly shucking off Derek's jacket which the alpha snatched from the air before Stiles could throw it as humanly far as possible in the small space. The alpha quickly slipped it over himself growling as he tried to reclaim his own scent on the leather. He was like one of those dogs that needed to piss on everything to prove they owned it. God he prayed Derek wouldn't piss on him next. That would just be the greatest conclusion to such a wonderful day.

Stiles paused, totally fascinated by this behaviour but Derek's growl had him working pretty quickly to get naked. He didn't pause to consider how easily a few choice threats had gotten him to this utterly naked state before he jumped into the shower very aware of the vulnerability that nakedness could provide though Derek was too busy smothering himself with his jacket to notice.

He quickly turned on the shower head, grimacing when the hot water hit the deep scratches on his face, trying not to think about the sex crazed alpha pacing outside of his very breakable glass defence system.

"You were crying," Derek's voice drifted under the steam.

Stiles felt his heart beat jump in his chest and knew that Derek did too.

"Me crying? Don't think so. I'm way too manly for that sort of thing. I've got a stone cold exterior that makes it impossible for me to weep so you saw no such thing."

"Why were you crying?" Derek repeated like he was questioning a two year old. Stiles scrubbed at himself as a distraction, thinking frantically about how he could best explain.

"I'm waiting, Stiles."

"The protestors," he choked out, full of emotion. "Surprisingly not known for their nice words."

The running water drowned out his thoughts for a moment and he followed Derek's outline as he paced across the tiles. The alpha was pretty wound up, he looked like he could wolf out at any given moment.

Was he supposed to do something about that?

"What words?"

Stiles shut his eyes, knowing he shouldn't but at the same moment wanting to anyway. He took a deep breath.

"Yourmotherwouldbesoproud," he rushed out like word vomit. It felt good, almost a relief to say. And Stiles did feel relieved. He felt like a great weight had been lifted off his chest, that he was a born again Christian sweet baby Jesus, that he could fly through the night sky like shooting stars-

"What?"

But that didn't mean he wanted to repeat it again! He felt himself tense, felt that horrible feeling coursing through him whenever someone mentioned her. It always felt like he was dying all over again.

"The woman said and I quote 'You mother would be so proud' end quote."

Derek didn't say anything for a moment and Stiles wondered what he was thinking about as he paced, back and forth, back and forth.

"I noticed you're a bit edgy about your mother," Derek said finally, slowly coming to a stop in front of the shower door so that Stiles could see his silhouette against the glass.

Stiles got angry, really damn fast.

"My mother's dead," he spat, anger dissipating immediately after speaking the hateful words. He slumped in on himself a little bit, swept up in his own memories. The past was killer.

"I know. So is mine," the alpha spoke quietly as if he wasn't quite ready for Stiles to hear it.

That was not what he'd been expecting but it didn't make him feel any better about the situation.

"What just happened?" he asked referring to the reason why his face looked like a kitty scratching post.

"What happened between us- could be considered scandalous. Somebody fed the story to a popular news station and everyone came here for the scoop."

Stiles frowned, rubbing absent-mindedly at his armpit. "But why?"

He heard Derek sigh. "Because you're underage and you offered yourself to me. It's usually the other way around. The alpha is meant to make the claim first."

Stiles flushed, wondering when people would realise that it was an accident already. "I didn't-"

"I know you didn't Stiles. But you've got to understand what this looks like."

"Bad?" he wondered rubbing soap across his knees.

"Bad," Derek agreed. "Now get out."

Stiles froze. "What?" he squeaked promptly dropping the soap.

"It's not working. I'm just going to have to scent you."

He reached for the nozzle turning it off quickly but trying not to seem too eager about it. Although he was pretty sure scenting was about the most asexual thing possible for werewolves. Not that he was interested in anything sexual with Derek.

So. Um. Yeah.

"Hurry up," Derek growled. "I'm not in much control at the moment. The sooner all of those other scents are gone the better."

The alpha handed him a towel through the glass door and didn't even try to peek. Stiles took it sheepishly.

"Are you calling my scent a whore?" he teased wrapping the flimsy material around himself tempted to sniff himself for slutty scent behaviour.

Derek choked out a weirdly strangled sound but he definitely thought it was a laugh. Hopefully. Or maybe he was choking up a fur ball. Oh. Werewolf not cat. Definitely not the right distinction there.

"Throw a pair of boxers on or I'll scent you naked and you don't want that."

Stiles practically steamrolled past him to grab a pair of underwear Derek had sent the driver- who in fact was not Jeeves but a personal butler dude named Henry- out to buy for him. They were already washed and Stiles pulled a pair on barely covering himself before Derek was lifting him into the air and carrying him back to the bedroom.

He tried to calm down and not be too obvious about just how much he was enjoying the situation but his heart was racing and Derek clearly knew.

"You're staying in my bed tonight," Derek growled in a deep not Derek sounding voice.

"Yes," Stiles agreed immediately knowing that he was meant to.

"With me," deep voice Derek continued.

"Yep."

_Forever. _Queue suspenseful music.

He was waiting for Derek to speak again but the alpha said nothing as he pulled them both underneath the blankets and started touching Stiles all over making these weird little growly noises as he did so.

Stiles said nothing, listening to the soundtrack of werewolf snuffling as he used the power of his mind to will away his excited lower regions, letting Derek be the stinking alpha for once because he was feeling charitable dammit, and permitted him to work his scenting werewolf magic.

All over and under him. Repeatedly.


	4. Nyet

Hey thanks for the reviews guys! I just thought I'd warn you that I've originally posted this story on A03 so whenever I update I'll update there first. I know how did I get so evil XD But my pseud name for my AO3 account is LunaCanisLupus_22 if you want to find me there

Anyway,

Enjoy!

* * *

**Nyet.**

Stiles remained a willing participant to Derek's totally macho werewolf cuddling until the sirens wailed through his state of almost sleep wrenching him back into reality. He jerked out of Derek's grasp quick as a flash.

"I wasn't doing anything I swear!" he cried rubbing his eyes and glancing around the room with a heightened sense of paranoia expecting his dad to come barrelling into the room at any given moment. Derek blinked up at him in confusion, his muscular arms looking very inviting and he almost wanted to climb back into bed with the alpha and have those arms wrapped around him again. Right, because that was a completely heterosexual thing to yearn for.

Derek's voice interrupted his current sexual identity crisis.

"Why do you look so suspicious?" he asked sitting up and exposing his very naked and deliciously toned chest as the blankets came free and slipped away. He was wearing pants, thank God so Stiles didn't really have to avert his virgin eyes or anything. Not that he was ogling him or that his mouth had fallen open at the sight. Nope.

He moved to the window, peeping around the curtain in a very subtle manner. "My dad- the Sheriff, sirens usually means I'm grounded."

Derek gave him a flat look and climbed out of bed, showing off a very nice looking ass. As asses went, it was pretty spectacular, and he followed it with his eyes as Derek disappeared into the bathroom without a word.

He didn't shut the door either and Stiles wondered if that was some kind of werewolf jedi mind trick or an invitation to make him want to follow. He'd actually taken a step towards the door before he heard the shower running and his brain caught up with his crotch, warning him that there was a very naked and probably sexually frustrated alpha in there.

And the full moon was Saturday, so things were about to reach epic proportions of life threatening possibilities. Stiles didn't need to study lunar activity to figure out he was already in eye of the storm, having taken the highway to the danger zone and straight into hell.

Plus Derek had scented him for like the whole afternoon, Stiles wasn't even sure what he'd used to smell like anymore and then they'd slept, in the same bed. With cuddling and everything and it wasn't even dark yet.

Who slept before dinner anyway?

Derek abruptly walked out into the bedroom, dripping wet and completely naked. Naturally Stiles attention was drawn to his alpha business. He was a teenage boy, okay. He had needs.

But upon looking he became quite certain he didn't need that appendage _anywhere _near him_._

Oh sweet Jesus. Derek wanted to put that in him?

"Oh my God. That's- a naked alpha," he cried, scrambling back into the window as if he was considering jumping out of it. "Um, no. We are not having sex just because I let you cuddle me."

He waved his hands to ward off all the Derek sexy but it was pretty strong as the pheromones of sexy drifting through the universe went. No wonder Erica wanted a piece of dat ass, Stiles was tempted to break a piece off for himself. Did he work out every minute of the day or something? How did anybody look like that without steroids? Werewolf, duh.

But Derek had clearly not been anywhere near performance enhancing drugs if the size of his cock was anything to go by. Just, unf. There was no way Derek wasn't going to tear him apart if Stiles let him anywhere near his bony ass.

"I just remembered," Derek spoke gruffly as explanation for the sudden display of his glorious sex God body. His hand came out and gently brushed something wet across the scratches on Stile's face. He jerked away as if he'd expected Derek's tongue instead.

"To stop infection."

Stiles dipped his fingertips in the stuff. It definitely didn't feel pleasant.

"You didn't use-"

And then suddenly his face was on fire.

"Oh _ow! _Sweet mother of-" he screeched. "Was that Betadine? Oh my God I hate you so much right now! I would have rather you just lick it, ow, ow!"

He jumped around on the spot though clearly that was going to help the sensation, flailing his arms and complaining shrilly about the injustice of infection. The pain dulled a little after practically burning his face off and Derek leaned in close, surprising him into complete stillness except for the odd twitch here and there, totally unconcerned by the effect his delectable body was having on Stiles.

His heart rate increased and he wished he could pretend that Derek wasn't the hottest human being on the planet or that he really seemed to genuinely want to have sexy time with him or that he'd promised to be gentle about it. If what he said next was any sort of indication to go by.

"Is that an invitation?" Derek asked wiggling his eyebrows so maybe he wasn't being completely serious. They were some pretty intense eyebrows after all.

Stiles shook his head pretty freaking quickly. "Nope, nope just a general observation with no sexual undertones or invitations to um-"

Derek snorted and walked back into the shower giving Stiles an even better few of his ass then before. Because he was naked and sexy and Stiles would never need to accidentally tivo porn ever again. He felt maybe he should pray to the libido Gods to thank them for such a wondrous vision of male specimen. He could die, having at least seen one naked ass.

Though there had been that time when his Dad had-

Ugh. No. He shook the memory away. Stiles had promised to never speak of it ever again. He decided he and Derek should eat something so he grabbed some random articles of Derek's clothing, too big jeans, a black t-shirt and a red hoodie which would make him smell more like the alpha. Although that was unnecessary because the hours of scenting him had done the trick pretty nicely, and he jumped past the open bathroom door as if expecting Derek to reach out and pull him in, before hurrying down the marble staircase.

He paused at the glass window noticing that the reporters were gone almost as soon as they'd arrived and he wondered if they'd seen Derek naked and had decided to use that as their main article. He could see the headlines now.

Heavily medicated teen dies by naked alpha exposure. Pictured below.

He sighed touching at his injured face again and wincing because it hurt and he knew it would hurt but Stiles was stubborn and had to do it anyway.

He pottered around the kitchen trying to decide what to make, raw steak? Go out into the woods and capture a bunny for him? But then he decided he would just cook what he normally cooked and Derek would learn to like it. Alpha's could be trained he was sure.

The curly fries were still simmering away in Derek's deep fryer, the burgers already done by the time the alpha made his appearance, soaking wet hair but thankfully- Stiles wasn't sure his nerves could take any more exposure- fully clothed.

Derek sniffed the air cautiously and Stiles managed to smile around the food samples he'd already shoved into his mouth. The alpha cocked his head to the side as if hearing something and then the doorbell rang.

Stiles tensed, expecting a media circus to come barrelling through the door and kill them.

"It's your father," Derek explained seeming to understand his feelings. Stiles wasn't sure what freaked him out more, that his dad was here or that Derek may or may not have the ability to read minds.

Must be an android thing.

"And you wondered why the sound of sirens had me jumpy," he accused shaking a curly fry in his direction before heading towards the door to answer it, Derek practically ghosting him he was following so closely. What? Did it look like Stiles was going to run?

Because that had worked out so well the first time.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst and swung open the door.

"Yes I got hurt, and it wasn't my fault, and I'm not dead so you can put away your firearm."

The Sheriff opened his mouth, but thought against it and shrugged withdrawing his hand from the holster at his hip and holding them sheepishly in surrender, smelling Stiles' specialty as it wafted throughout the house.

"You cooking?" he guessed and Stiles nodded in satisfaction that his father knew him so well.

And then moved to walk outside to hug him.

But Derek seized him by the scruff of his clothes with a pretty freaking terrifying growl and Stiles flailed his arms uselessly as his dad stepped away from his heavily medicated son who still attempted to grab at him.

"If we bring him into the house then can I hug him?" he whined trying not to huff in disappointment when Derek pushed him behind his big, alpha body.

For a second Stiles thought Derek was going to eat his dad and the Sheriff must have thought the same thing because he flinched as the alpha pushed past him scenting the air, expression dangerous as he walked off with sudden purpose.

Though of course Derek pushing him inside had been an uncommunicated command for him to stay there he'd never been very good at reading between the lines. Stiles felt it was his duty as alpha mate to check this shit out. Maybe Derek was about to dig up a bone and that was seriously something he couldn't go through life without seeing. And laughing at.

So he followed after him, grabbing his father who was still frozen on the front steps. You would have thought that being a cop and all would give him better reflexes.

"Where are you going?" Stiles called after him as Derek veered off his property heading straight for the woods, the deep, dark, scary woods where normal people did not go without a perfectly normal reason.

Sighing, Stiles went after him hearing the distinct click of his dad's gun as he switched the safety off, having already withdrawn it.

"Yeah dad, go ahead shoot my werewolf boyfriend," he said. "That'll make thanksgiving really enjoyable."

Their footsteps crunched against the scattered leaves making it impossible for them to tread silently though Derek had managed because Stiles had no idea what direction he'd taken.

"I'm not going to shoot him Stiles," his dad promised though Stiles knew he was rolling his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. I'm going to shoot what he's following."

"Oh ha ha," he muttered tripping over a tree root and nearly breaking his ankle. He cried out a pretty choice swear word which was probably why his father's grip when he grabbed him to stop him falling was tighter than usual.

"Language," he warned scanning ahead into the trees. Stiles couldn't believe that was what he was worrying about right now. Wasn't he the least bit curious about what he was about to shoot?

They were well into the trees, walking aimlessly in hopefully the right direction when they heard it. A deep mournful howl, that shuddered through the trees and rippled across his skin.

"Derek," he said unthinkingly, moving toward the sound as if he'd been called, his father grunting in agreement.

They walked through a particularly thick copse of trees making their way into a hidden clearing when Derek was suddenly crowding up against him, blocking his view and pushing him back.

"No Stiles. Don't look."

He spotted a boot and tried to jump over Derek's shoulder to get a better view. His dad moved around him and the alpha made no move to stop him as he approached what was clearly a body. A dead body. The Sheriff said a bad word, even worse than the one Stiles had just uttered and crouched down to inspect it further.

"Who?" Stiles asked still attempting to get past the wall of alphaness that was screening his vision. But Derek hadn't taken him completely out of the clearing so he figured he didn't think it was safe to leave the Sheriff out here by himself alone.

"Do you know who it is?" Sheriff Stilinski asked.

Derek's attention wavered for a moment and Stiles seized the opportunity, ducking under his arms and rushing forward before the alpha could force him back.

And nearly _threw up._

He wasn't entirely sure what he was looking at. There was so much blood. Blood and dirt everywhere and scratches and something that looking suspiciously like semen.

Oh sweet God of mercy. He suddenly felt faint.

"Female," Derek growled out seizing Stiles around the waist and nipping his neck in punishment. Stiles eeped at the sensation but it distracted him from the lunch he was seriously considering discarding. "Her scents all over these woods."

The Sheriff shut his eyes, and Stiles knew that he'd identified her. "It's Deborah West. She's the Chief Ranger for Beacon Hills."

A few more obvious traits swam before his eyes as that new part of the puzzle fell into place. He recognised the colour of her hair, strewn with blood and the material of her clothes literally ripped apart- the Ranger's uniform. And suddenly it all clicked.

"Werewolf heat," he managed realising with a sick feeling what a terrifying and horrible way it would have been to die.

Derek's grip tightened and he nuzzled Stiles' neck comfortingly. "The werewolf's gone rogue," he said. "You'd better call in the Argent's. I've already memorised the scent."

The sheriff rose to his feet. "I need to get to my car first. The entire department is still down at the school parking lot taking statements and helping out the medics."

Stiles abruptly yanked himself free of his alpha protector. "Dad, was anybody hurt? Or um- maimed?" he glanced at Derek who stared at him blankly but he knew exactly who was to blame for the aforementioned maiming.

"What? It's a legitimate question. You were seriously pissed."

The Sheriff shook his head. "No only human induced injuries, I'm afraid. Nobody you know, none local."

He started shepherding Stiles out of the clearing and after the little gore fest he'd just witnessed he was more than happy to go, Derek close to his side. He remembered Deborah from all those times she'd caught him and Scott in the woods in the early days when Scott had sucked at anything to do with lycanthropy and he'd had to teach him just about everything. By taking him out into the woods for werewolf training.

They'd really gotten on her nerves, actually. But it was Stiles and Scott, of course they would annoy her, they annoyed practically everybody in Beacon Hills. Which was why they worked so well together as friends.

"What about this wolf," his dad asked. "Local?"

Derek shook his head. "Drifter. Omega."

He was extremely tense beside Stiles and he wondered if that was because they were pretty vulnerable out in the woods, even with the alpha. It's not like Derek would be able to protect them both if something happened. Sure Sheriff Stilinski had a gun and Stiles possessed all of his flailing limbs but they may as well have been two old fellas, strength wise.

They were both very human and unfortunately these days, that translated to weak.

"Anyway, son. The reason I came to see you was to check if you were alright and to ask what you wanted to do about school."

Stiles slowed his pace as he looked at him, but Derek didn't seem to like that because he swung him over his shoulder like he would a hunted kill the similarity of which Stiles did not enjoy. He didn't even pause, holding him so his face was very close to Derek's ass as the alpha continued walking with him draped over his body.

"Um," Stiles said from his new viewpoint, watching both their feet moving through the dead leaves and deciding not to question it. "Would this be because of those crazy reporters?"

"And the protestors," his father added seemingly ignoring this strange behaviour because yes, Stiles did have a habit of dawdling but that didn't mean it was Derek's duty to carry him. "Yes. I'm just not sure what you want to do."

"I can't not go," he said. "Without my education the terrorists win. Besides there won't be many people there. At least half of the school will be locking themselves in their basements or in their bedrooms for heat week, anyway while the humans freak out about this rogue wolf. It should be pretty safe. At least as safe as Beacon Hills can be."

Derek growled but that was probably because Stiles had pinched his butt and not because of anything to do with the conversation.

"What do you think about this, Derek?" the Sheriff asked.

Stiles was surprised that he'd even considered asking him, although technically they were gay werewolf married or whatever so his dad could consult Derek on these type of things whenever he felt like it.

"I think Stiles should think about this and not just _grab," _his voice rose a couple octaves as Stiles seized his left butt cheek. "Onto the first idea that pops into his head."

He took a bounding step with much more force than necessary slamming Stiles' face against his lower back in retaliation. His father was somehow still taking Derek seriously and nodded in agreement, their little game of boundary crossing chicken going totally unnoticed.

"I'll go to school tomorrow," he said. "As like a probationary thing. And if anything goes wrong I'll call Derek and seriously consider homeschooling."

Which totally meant that Derek would be his hot teacher and that was like every hormonal teens fantasy. He wondered if Derek would bend him over the desk and spank him for not doing his homework.

It was an erection inducing thought but a helpful distraction from that mess of human body sprawled across the forest floor just waiting for someone to come across. He and Scott had gone looking for a body in the woods once but then Scott had been bitten and they'd never really talked about what Scott had seen, though Stiles knew he'd seen something out there.

He was so glad now that he'd missed out, the violent image of the Ranger's body would forever be imprinted in his brain. He'd never go looking for anything like that ever again. It was so horrible.

And it was basically a combination of all of his fears for the full moon laid out in one gruesome picture of brutality and death.

He hoped she hadn't been alive through all of it. That would have been the most agonizing form of torture, having to lie there helpless and powerless while some beast literally...

He shuddered against the heat of Derek's body, feeling a sudden chill. He'd seen the blood, the bruised and broken body lying there like discarded trash. He prayed it had been quick, but something told him those last few minutes for her had been worse than dying. And he knew her face, it was so much worse than that, to remember what she should look like but didn't anymore; she'd been pretty nice about their wood shenanigans and he'd known she was a good person.

To have that happen to her was just. Horrible.

No it was worse than that, it was deplorable. Maybe those protestors had been onto something. Maybe in moments like this the bite was a curse, when bad people were allowed into the werewolf ranks. They always wanted peace between the humans and the werewolves but it could never happen, really. It was never going to work, even Stiles knew that.

Werewolves and humans just didn't mix very well at all. They were like two kids in the sand box who just could not play nice no matter how many times they were sent to time out.

And to think that the person that did that to her- that made her into that unrecognisable thing, deposited, because she was of no use to him broken- was roaming about freely was absolutely terrifying. No wonder he preferred to think sexy Derek thoughts instead.

He felt sick again and the swaying motion of Derek's gait was not helping things. Derek walked his father to his car, the red and blue lights still flashing because he always forgot to switch them off and suddenly he knew why all of those reporters were suddenly gone.

He was oddly touched by that thought and that Derek was going out of his way to protect his dad even if Stiles was totally cockblocking him at every turn and no doubt teasing the hell out of him because he was so utterly irresistible.

His dad called dispatch to get the coroner and a couple of deputies to photograph the scene over the police radio. And Stiles pulled out his cell phone, leaving a message on Scott's voicemail, warning him about the rogue werewolf and telling him to keep Allison safe because he was such a great friend.

"When they get here I'll lead you back," Derek said having finally deemed it safe for Stiles' feet to be planted on solid ground.

It was suddenly harder to breathe again.

"You're on your own there buddy because if I go anywhere near there I warn you, I will throw up or pass out and trust me both will not be a pretty sight."

He knew that he was presenting the alpha with a dilemma. To leave Stiles unprotected whilst he went with his father, or to let his father get lost in the woods and stay with his Adderall addicted boyfriend.

"You've got a beta in the department, Deputy Bungalon. He'll find it."

Stiles' jaw dropped and the Sheriff's eyebrows knitted together. Derek glanced between them resting on Stile's face a bit longer than necessary focusing on his open mouth which caused him to shut it pretty quickly as his face heated up. Derek was totally thinking dirty thoughts about his mouth, Stiles could tell.

"Was that a secret?" he asked but then clearly didn't apologise for outing the guy they'd known for years and hadn't figured out was a werewolf. What was up with that? How could they not have known? His dad had to be the worst Sheriff ever and Stiles had thought that he was pretty in the know of certain little facts like who was a werewolf in this damn town and who wasn't for instance.

But Derek wasn't really the apologising type. Clearly. So he just gave Stiles a look like say your good byes Stiles because we are going back into the house so I can ravish you which was a-okay for him at the moment because it was getting darker and steadily turning into the setting for a hardcore horror flick.

"Bye dad, I'll talk to you soon," he promised reaching out to hug his father which thankfully Derek didn't attempt to prevent this time and go gallivanting back out into the woods again. Where there actually was a dead body waiting for them.

Stiles pulled away from his dad's reassuring hold on him, shivering again before he was pressed against Derek's side and being bundled back into the house.

"I'll heat up the food," Stiles offered though he wasn't remotely hungry.

"Stiles," he grumbled seeming to sense that something was off about the teen as Stiles busied himself with stuffing the burgers and fries onto a plate and putting it into the microwave. The buzzing radio waves filled the silence for a moment as Stiles tried to make sense of what he wanted to say.

Because they definitely needed to talk about what happened out there.

"Will- will you do that to me during the full moon?" he asked not turning to face him.

"No," he promised but there was an edge of uncertainty in his tone like he needed Stiles to reassure him on the matter. He spun to face him, kind of appalled that Derek couldn't even give him the slightest guarantee that his fears were unfounded.

"Try not to sound too confident about it. I might actually think I don't need to freak the hell out."

And suddenly they were glaring at each other like they might want to rip one another apart and not in a good way that resulted in post coital snuggling.

"I _heard _her," Derek admitted darkly. "When I brought you back here. Normally I'd have checked it out but I was so focused on reclaiming my scent on you that I didn't-"

The microwaves cheery beep of completion interrupted his words and he appeared to have nothing more to say, so Stiles pulled the food out and set it on the table knowing he wasn't going to eat it but with a little bit of coaxing Derek might.

He placed the plate in front of the alpha invitingly trying not to think about his words. Knowing that he'd heard her and done nothing was so much worse than actually knowing her and seeing her body afterwards.

"Was she screaming?" he asked quietly, not quite meeting Derek's eyes.

He growled. Only once. But Stiles felt like it could speak a thousand words. A thousand horrific words to spin and twist inside his brain until he couldn't bear to think anymore. He raised his eyes to Derek's and his dark eyes drew him in digging and finding purchase in his soul like claws into soft flesh, blood exploding from the open wound as his breathing hitched.

"You don't want me to answer that."

He was right. He didn't. Though he knew the answer anyway. And that would sit with Derek forever if he let it.

"It's not your fault," he said. "You can't have known what was happening."

"It doesn't matter if I didn't know. I should have anyway. It's my responsibility."

Stiles pushed the plate further towards him so that it almost ended up in the alpha's lap. "Will the Argent's get him before he- before he does that to anyone else?"

"They should. They're experts in rogues. Haven't missed one yet."

Stiles exhaled in relief nodding towards the food again until Derek sighed and picked up a burger. Sexy alpha needed to start putting on weight if he wanted to keep all of his werewolf fans at bay, and maybe leave Stiles with a shred of self esteem.

Though he had been hitting the weights a bit lately, you could say he might even have a few muscular muscles here and there. Maybe he'd be strong enough to take on that Girl Scout soon, and win. Maybe he'd be the one throwing Derek on his shoulder which would definitely be an amusing sight to behold.

Derek's eyes narrowed on him suspiciously as if he could see a plan formulating in his head as he took a bite of his burger but Stiles only smiled in the most innocent impression of trustworthiness wondering if he was pulling off the Bambi eyes like Allison always managed to with Scott.

He wasn't.

Because Derek made a particularly unflattering comment and Stiles took immediate offence, speechless in his shock.

And in retaliation he stormed off to Derek's bedroom without another word and locked the door, spitefully denying the werewolf access to the bed or him, before going to sleep, fuming.

* * *

The alpha made him breakfast the next morning but the silent treatment continued all the way from Derek's den of dastardly deeds to the high school hell hole of horrifyingly heinous hallways.

And Stiles was able to keep his silence the entire way. And there was still no apology for the incident last night and the words which could not be repeated. Ever.

There were no reporters or protestors though Derek had circled the parking lot three times already to be sure. Stiles figured he was stalling because he was trying to get him to speak to him again.

"You're being immature," Derek said. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

Stiles didn't even look at him and the alpha growled, raising the hairs on the back of his neck as the deep sound filled the car space. His heat beat thudded in his chest but he barely acknowledged it. He was holding this grudge until his very dying day, or at least until Derek admitted that he'd wronged him spectacularly.

"You're damn lucky it was me who almost ran you down that day and not some other werewolf because you'd be dead by now," Derek snarled, the deep tones of his wolf mixing into his words. "Or worse."

And Stiles knew exactly what worse meant. He'd seen the aftermath. And he shivered again. But he refused to say anything until the stupid werewolf apologised for the words that must not be mentioned.

He'd never been so just, ugh damned irritated in his entire life. He was literally at frustration station after taking a quick trip down struggle street and he was not budging. It was a pride thing really.

Derek reached out stroking across the side of his injured face all the way down to his jaw line, in an odd gesture of meaningfulness that was wrapped in an emotion that Stiles couldn't identify and the caressing touch caught him off guard. What was it meant to mean?

"Be careful today."

He spoke softly, an odd tone to his voice and Stiles clambered out of his car, hurrying to get away from the thick tension and his own racing heart.

Derek watched him walk into the school before driving away, leaving him to wonder just how long the alpha was going to wait until Stiles grew a pair and responded to his claim. It was pretty clear he was on his last leg, patience wise and he really had no idea what was going to happen.

Would Derek force himself on Stiles anyway during the full moon? Nervousness twisted through him. They hadn't even freaking kissed yet, except for all those times Derek had gnawed on his neck. Plus he'd seen Derek's fully naked form and knew just how much werewolf sex would cost him. There was no doubt in his mind that it would hurt.

He walked solo to homeroom where he met Scott who quickly apologised for not helping him yesterday and thanked him for the rogue werewolf heads up but Stiles was too distracted with Derek thoughts to guilt his best friend properly and forgave him, no questions asked. Allison had only twisted her ankle and everybody was fine so there was really nothing to be stressing about.

But he was stressing. Nothing really felt right anymore. His dad was looking for a psycho werewolf, he hadn't driven his baby in days, Lydia wanted to talk to him about his homosexuality and Derek, well, Derek wanted to screw him to death but clearly that was about all he wanted from him.

School basically sucked. Today would be Scott's last day before his mother locked him in the basement for werewolf heat, the hallways felt a bit emptier than usual and despite nobody trying to attack him, they all seemed to find his scarred face unbelievably interesting.

Which in hindsight was probably worse because if he'd been attacked then Derek would have arrived and taken him from this hell hole and then they could have curled up on the couch, watching crappy daytime tv for the rest of the day. Although they were still fighting and Stiles was stubbornly refusing to talk to him.

And now that he thought about it he didn't know anything about Derek anyway. Did he have a job? Was he at work right now? Or roaming through the woods and digging up more bodies? What did he do in his Stiles free time? Or was he just sitting in the school parking lot waiting for him?

He was wearing Derek's jacket again as a precautionary thing and not because he liked wearing it. Today was all about the practicality and not their relationship problems.

But then he was being called to the Principal's office and suddenly the day became about both. The new principal was some hell of a scary old dude, an Argent no less and Allison's grandfather though Stiles doubted she would ever feel the need to call him granddaddy.

"That's one hell of a scratch Mr Stillinski," Gerard Argent noted getting straight to the point when he walked through the door. "I heard about the festival. That was on hell of an offer, very public and to an alpha no less."

Stiles rolled his eyes, slumping into the seat across from the nightmare inducing old man who could probably kill him with any number of items in the room.

"How many times do I have to- ugh it was all just a big mistake," he promised tapping his feet impatiently against the floor, glancing at the clock and knowing school was almost over and Derek was probably already waiting for him outside.

And if he wasn't out there and in the passenger seat of Derek's flashy car a soon as the bell rang things would get real ugly, real fast.

"Like that?" Gerard Argent clarified pointing at his injured face again. "Does your alpha usually try to rip your face off?"

Stiles felt his stomach drop. Didn't he know what had happened yesterday in the school parking lot? Why did grandpa Argent think Derek was to blame? He wasn't sure that he believed Derek was capable of intentionally hurting him like that, although considering the words that must not be mentioned, maybe he was.

And maybe after werewolf heat he was going to be looking a hell of a lot worse.

"He didn't-" he began, trying valiantly to defend his alpha's honour.

"We know about the Ranger," The principal cut in. "And we know Derek's the one that found her, in the woods right outside his house. Pretty convenient don't you think, son?"

Stiles actually leaned forward in his chair as if he'd heard him wrong. Was he actually accusing Derek of Deborah's murder? His finger's drummed edgily across the armrests of the seat.

"Did you just-"

"I'd be very careful about your alpha, boy," Grandpa Argent growled out. "Because I'm not so sure he's going to be around much longer."

And the bell rang to add to his whole list of ninety nine problems but he was too shocked by Grandpa's words to notice. Because he, a psycho badass Argent werewolf hunter was going after Derek.

The hardness of his expression revealed all. Stiles could see the undisguised hatred in his eyes and realised that this went further than a measly human scratch on his face and a dead Ranger in the woods. This was a grudge simmering through years and years of heart consuming hatred. Grandpa Argent had just been waiting for a reasonable excuse to go after Derek.

To kill him.

And that was certaintly going to put a wedge in their relationship.

There was no way he was going to let that happen. The principal waved him away dismissing Stiles from his psycho, werewolf grudge presence. Was this why the Argent's had such a good track record for rogue wolves? Because the man sitting in front of him was so ruthless?

Stiles rose to his feet not knowing what to do, feeling utterly helpless because try as he might he was still a kid trying to deal with the prospect of all out war between humans and werewolves because clearly it was coming. And it was coming soon.

"You're wrong about him," he said finally and the principal chuckled.

"Maybe you should consider how well you know him, before making any decisions."

He did have a point; he didn't actually know Derek that well since he'd returned to Beacon Hills in his alpha glory but he'd clearly lived here before. That was literally the extent of his knowledge in the matter. But how was he meant to find anything out? There was no way Derek would tell him.

Stiles glanced briefly at the clock and nearly wet himself. He was five minutes late! How long had he been standing there staring into Grandpa Argent's eyes? The eyes of a man who'd seen much and killed hundreds all for a greater cause that was utterly flawed and totally fucked up. He smiled knowingly at him in a predatory way and it all clicked together.

Shit.

He'd pulled him in here to distract him because Grandpa Argent knew Derek would be waiting outside, looking for Stiles no doubt, not expecting an ambush. He fled the principal's office without another word nearly crying with the relief that he'd grabbed his bag already and saved some extra time, so that he could warn Derek or something.

He pelted down the hallway at breakneck speed like some kind of wild animal, freaking the hell out about what he was going to see. Derek surrounded by the bodies of his enemies, blood dripping from his open jaws or the alpha bruised and broken surrounded by a group of men who were willing to kill him in broad daylight for the greater good.

All for the cause.

He barrelled through the main doors eyes searching frantically and then froze.

There was no hunting party or werewolf showdown. Derek was standing next to his car surrounded by werewolves but that wasn't really the problem save for a specific blonde and bitchy werewolf who had her filthy paws _all over _Derek's chest. And Derek just let her do it, the cheating werewolf scum_._

Stiles couldn't believe that he'd actually cared about Derek's wellbeing for even a second while he was outside basking in the nobility of his alpha rank with a bunch of beta and omega groupies showing their undying love. What a fucking joke.

He was pretty sure he'd even spotted Jackson down there too. And Derek was sort of smiling. Biggest slap in the face if he'd ever gotten one.

Well, now Stiles Stilinski was pissed. He stormed down the steps wondering whose neck he was going to wring out first because while he may have a few muscles here and there, his limit would be murdering only one werewolf.

And he had a fairly good idea which two it had boiled down to.

But then again if he killed Derek, he wouldn't be able to look at his insanely attractive anything anymore and well if he killed Erica...

Then that bitch would just be dead. The end, no problems whatsoever.

Although his dad might have to ask him a few questions and/or lock him away forever. And then Derek could become a police officer and they could continue their illicit romance through steel bars and prison food.

But whatever. Not important right now. Not until he'd actually started the killing.

He pushed his way through the werewolf groupie crowd probably because they recognised Derek's scent on him and let him through, making his way to the scene of the murder he was about to commit.

He could hear Erica simpering at Derek, probably some ridiculous pick up line where she wanted to let his wolf in her den, so to speak. Either way, Stiles was angry and he was not having it.

Not after he'd really felt something when Gerard Argent had threatened Derek. He'd been absolutely terrified on Derek's behalf and they hadn't even freaking played tonsil hockey yet. The alpha scenting thing seemed to be working because Stiles was having the feelings.

And now he finally had an inclination to discuss said homosexual feelings for a particularly aggravating sour wolf with his self appointed psychiatrist, Lydia. He'd have to schedule that for a later date, now he was busy committing murder.

"Alright, alright," Stiles muttered pushing in between Erica and Derek. "Show's over so back the hell off, Barbie."

Erica's eyes narrowed and she looked like she desperately wanted to do something about his words but couldn't in front of the alpha. She sniffed angrily and Stiles watched in satisfaction as the group dissembled giving him dirty looks because he'd interrupted their werewolf bonding time.

Well they would just have to deal.

Stiles turned back to Derek.

"Got yourself some groupies hey? You must be so happy-"

He trailed off suddenly finally noticing the way Derek was looking at him. If his original Dereky stare was supposed to be intense, this was like the mother of all intense stares that he had ever or would ever produce in his lifetime. Was he really so pissed that Stiles sent them packing?

But then the stare turned predatory and Stiles tried to back the hell up. Derek snagged his arm before he could get very far pulling him into his embrace and trapping his body between the car door and his own burning flesh.

Whoa. _Whoa. _What was going on here?

Had Derek's heat come early or something?

"Finally," Derek growled managing to fit an explosion of emotion into that one word and Stiles opened his mouth to say something only Derek was suddenly sticking his tongue in it.

And sweet and merciful Lord, Stiles suspicions had been correct. Derek did have a talented mouth, and tongue.

His brain was suddenly encountering a core meltdown, systems a no-go sorry, have a nice day. And he was perfectly okay with this.

Stiles had no idea what was happening but he figured this was about the best apology he could have asked for so he went with the flow, responding just as hungrily to the ministrations of Derek's mouth because of hormones and reasons. But probably mostly because Derek was sex on a stick.

Derek's hands were everywhere and Stiles felt the heat and press of his hard body against him, pulling him closer like he was air and dammit Stiles needed to breathe him in.

His finger's brushed against Derek's stubble before slipping into his hair and just freaking pulling because he'd be damned if he let the alpha get off that easy after the words that must not be mentioned. Derek growled against his lips pushing Stiles further against his flashy nice car that they were practically screwing against, his grip tightening as the air was literally pushed out of him.

But then Derek pulled away to work on his neck and oh. Oh. Stiles wasn't sure he could live without this.

Derek was literally burning through his little protective wall of reasoning, smashing it into little itty bitty pieces and then dancing on the remains.

His brain was completely fogged over with lust because whoa. How did Derek know to do that with his tongue?

He slumped at little against the weight of all of this emotion and sensations and feelings, slamming into him all at once, all pent up and locked away when they'd both tried to play nice and resist.

There was no resisting now. Derek's teeth came over his neck, biting, bruising and breaking the skin and Stiles just full on moaned, leaning into it, wanting oh so much more. And when Derek moved in for easier access, grinding their hips together and tilting his head to the side with his hands so that he could bite down harder, he gasped.

Stiles stopped breathing, air rushing out of his lungs in a heady huff of pleasure before Derek's very obvious and very hard werewolf cock jerked against his own needy erection in a prelude to something much more intimate.

And then shit got real.

"Wait," Stiles moaned out. "What are you doing?"

Derek growled in frustration as Stiles untangled his fingers from his hair, pushing him away slightly and glancing about the almost empty parking lot for witnesses. There were a few too many for his liking and they were all watching with surprised and somewhat scandalised expressions as if they hadn't been prepared for homosexual werewolf porn on their way home from school.

Stiles managed an awkward wave in their direction. Nobody waved back. Figures.

But Coach Finstock was clearly never going to look at him the same way during economics or lacrosse ever again. Well at least Danny wasn't the only flaming homosexual at school anymore. Or would Stiles be considered bi?

Derek was frowning at him and he got straight to the point.

"I wouldn't say I didn't enjoy that because we'd both know I was lying but what's up with the marking again thing? And the totally hot make out session?"

Derek traced his jaw line and Stiles refused to shudder and lean into the touch. "You responded to my claim."

Stiles jaw dropped open uselessly though Derek's gaze clearly spoke of the many uses that had come to his mind. Yep, definitely a horny werewolf.

"Whaaaaaat? You serious? No I didn't that's- impossible."

"You. Did. Just. Then." Derek enunciated perfectly starting to look pretty freaking pleased. He was even smirking. God. As if he already knew exactly where this new development was leading. What a jerk face.

"Bullshit," Stiles argued folding his arms across his chest. "I did no such thing."

Derek yanked him back against his body, mouthing at his neck again with a shuddering growl. "You openly acknowledged your claim to me in public in front of at least twenty werewolves. You. Responded. Stiles."

What. What even. How was he supposed to understand and pick up on every little bit of werewolf subtext? He tried to wrap his head around the entire thing. Maybe telling Erica to back off hadn't been the best idea because now there was nothing stopping Derek from jumping his bones anymore. Come this full moon, Derek was going to destroy him.

Because Stiles had just freaking given him the all clear like a total dumbass. There had to be a loophole. He needed to read over the document on alpha law again to be sure, but that was still hidden under his pillow at home dammit. An idea suddenly came to him.

"I want my baby," Stiles said and Derek stiffened against him, letting him go so abruptly that Stiles nearly fell over. He saw Derek's shocked face and thought he'd better clarify. He wasn't actually asking for a kid, jeez. Commitment issues much?

"My Jeep- I want my jeep," He continued. "For driving- to drive places. I need my baby."

Derek frowned. "Your baby- the jeep?"

And Stiles nodded so enthusiastically he thought he was going to snap his neck. Was he being too obvious about going home? And away from Derek's wandering hands?

"Uh, two cars are better than one? Right? And then you won't have to keep driving me to school and waiting around for me to finish. It's a flawless idea, should make Jeeves pretty happy seeing as you took his car away from him and trust me we need that dude happy-"

"Fine. Let's go."

Stiles grinned and walked around to the passenger side. That had been surprisingly easy. But then Derek reached out and seized his collar yanking him back so that he could press his mouth against his neck again.

"Driver's side," he growled opening the door and dragging Stiles onto his lap. He let out a garbled sound of outrage and surprise before squirming against the alpha's grip.

"You know this is actually pretty illegal and I would know being the Sheriff's son and all-"

"Just let me touch you okay?" Derek growled out, an edge of desperation in his voice that had Stiles shivering as he started the car. "Just let me, _please."_

Wow, okay so alphas did have the ability to use manners. But the fact that Derek was begging him was just...

Oh. Wow indeed.

"Okay, okay," he agreed, making a very undignified sound when the alpha licked along his throat, sucking bruises into his skin, making him raw with need and totally incomprehensible by the time Derek had even driven out of the parking lot.

And even he could hear himself making the soundtrack for a pretty damn good porno, thank you very much, enough to make him completely flushed and regretting letting Derek pull him into his lap.

His dad wasn't home from work yet so after a few more minutes of hot tongues sliding against one another and full brain malfunctioning, bodily contact Derek released him and he made his way unsteadily up the driveway, trying to get his breathing back to normal.

Because damn that alpha could kiss.

Stiles grabbed the spare keys from under a particularly hideous garden gnome, feeling Derek's hungry eyes on him from the car and knowing he had to be quick about grabbing that paperwork.

Because he was supposed to be getting the keys to his jeep, which were on the kitchen table. He ran up the stairs and into his bedroom diving for the bed and wrenching his pillow free to get to the goodies underneath. He nearly wept with relief when he saw it was still there and proceeded to shove it into his back pack as quickly as possible, papers flying everywhere in his haste.

He was glancing around the room as he did so, feeling a little nostalgic when he stopped, spotting Scott's jacket on his floor.

And then a brilliant, totally horrible but possibly ingenious idea came to him.

Derek had said that he couldn't think straight with different scents on Stiles, so focused on the need to reclaim his scent again by scenting him for hours.

What if?...

Stiles scrambled to grab the jacket and taking a deep breath, shoved it directly into his face and began rubbing it all over him.

Ew, Scott cooties.

Werewolves wouldn't want to have sexy time with a mate if they smelled like somebody else. They had to reclaim their scent first. It was like wearing dirty laundry or whatever; they couldn't do anything about it until it was fixed.

And thank you lord, Scott for once had actually helped in the effort to protect his virginity from werewolf destruction. He finished rubbing it all over him and quickly pulled his arms through the sleeves hoping that wearing it would spread the scent better, ignoring the distasteful feeling of Scott's smell all over him.

Jesus, did that boy even use deodorant?

He hurried back downstairs, grabbing the keys for his jeep and hurrying to the doorway. Derek was still there waiting in his Mercedes for Stiles to start the jeep and drive off first and he tried to keep his heart rate down so as not to look suspicious.

Derek had all of the windows rolled up so he wouldn't be able to smell Stiles yet, so why was he frowning?

Stiles shut the front door waving his keys at Derek in greeting before scurrying over to his jeep and launching himself inside as if expecting a sexy werewolf attack.

Derek didn't leave until the engine started and Stiles had begun reversing out of his driveway but by then he was hyperventilating.

The scent thing would buy him enough time to read over alpha law again because he was not going to give up his perfectly undamaged ass to a horny werewolf who would just completely wreck him, without a fight.

No, he was going to make this shit a lot harder then Derek would ever have imagined.

Operation protect Stile's skinny ass from heavily endowed and boner inducing alpha werewolf Derek Hale was a go.

Looks like he had the makings of an evil genius in him yet.


	5. Nie

Wow, sorry it took me so long to update. I had to recover from all the feels of the O'Brien/Hoechlin we're on a ship- pun intended video :D because I literally died. My bad.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Nie.**

Stiles had only driven a few miles before the Adderall finally kicked in and his brain started operating cognitively enough for him to consider the risks of his actions. The decision to stop Derek's advances was starting to seem like a pretty freaking dumbass idea, concocted in a way that only a Stilinski could.

And there was no take backsies either which was probably what sucked the most since he'd put some distance between Derek's rocking bod and his own teenage hormones and really understood the big freaking risk he was taking. There were a lot of different variables that could result in his untimely and definitely gruesome demise.

The first of them being that Derek may not even consider Scott a threat anymore, since he'd gone out of his way to convince the alpha they were just friends, maybe he wouldn't even notice Scott's scent in his rush to divest Stiles of his clothes and get to the naked business.

Or what if Derek didn't even bother trying to reclaim Stiles and instead went out to kill Scott for encroaching on his territory? Oh _shit. _

No, no, he had definitely not thought this through at all and contrary to popular belief he didn't actually want to kill his best friend. Most of the time anyway.

Well that was just freaking craptastic. He'd panicked at the sudden advancements of their relationship and now he was either going to get fucked so thoroughly that he would literally die or he was going to have to explain to Mrs McCall why she suddenly didn't have a son to worry about anymore.

Oops.

He switched off the radio, needing complete silence to approach this from all angles. Okay, so he was covered in Scott's scent which was totally gross and creeping him out a little and could possibly traumatise him for all eternity but whatever, the damage was done. And now he had to figure out a new plan.

Right new plan. Thinking of one would be a good idea. His fingers drummed a random beat across the wheel as he drove, mind going in all directions at once most of them grisly scenarios of his own painful death.

Although he did still have Derek's jacket in his backpack. Maybe he could try to overwhelm Scott's scent with the alpha's, it was naturally dominant anyway. If he put it back on now then he could just insist that they'd be sitting really close to one another all day…

Like Derek would believe that. Geez, he wasn't stupid.

And he couldn't guarantee that that would work anyway. How long were scents meant to take to sink into the skin? He could be forced to stall for hours before it got back to normal and he had no excuses to keep the alpha waiting.

So that plan was out the window.

And speaking of windows, what the hell was that?

Stiles eased off the accelerator twisting his neck to stare over his shoulder with interest at the splash of colour that had flitted past his peripheral vision while he drove through the rapidly dwindling sunlight as it filtered through the obscurity of the woods.

For a second there he'd thought he'd seen pink. But like bright pink. The colour pink you saw on little girls dolls or freakishly girly women, you know the ones who dressed like Barbie was their fashion icon.

Pink. In the woods which had no right being unusually feminine.

His eyes narrowed and he scanned the side of the road wondering if he was totally losing his shit as he squinted into the semi darkness of the late afternoon. The trees as always looked pretty freaking ominous and he figured he was just being paranoid, hyped up on Derek related emotions.

And then he saw it. The sudden flash of pink contrasting against the dead leaves, shredded into misshapen pieces. Of material. As if from someone's clothing.

Oh fuck.

Something dark moved in front of it obscuring the bit of colour that had caught his eye and he barely managed to smother a garbled scream of terror as he comprehended exactly what he was looking at.

The rogue werewolf.

The dark thing heard him anyway and Stiles was already dialling Derek's cell phone jamming his foot to press down on the accelerator so he could get the hell outta there. The jeep moved about an inch and then there was a terrible screeching of tyres against the asphalt as the engine over revved itself straining to push forward, the sound squealing through the silence.

So evidently his car had decided that he deserved to die for abandoning it for so long.

His brain was literally taken over by panic and Stiles didn't understand how this could possibly be happening to him. He had a sudden urge to lock all of the doors but it was unlikely that that would prevent the werewolf from doing anything, except laughing at him in a sinister fashion.

Derek picked up on the first ring but Stiles didn't even notice turning slowly to look at the hulking, great mass of wolf that had seized the back of his car preventing his escape with his bare hands.

"Stiles?" Derek's voice came out muffled beneath his sweaty grip.

He was utterly speechless staring down the gigantic tonne of werewolf just casually holding up the end of his jeep like it was a toy truck. He was so fucking screwed. And even if he hadn't been totally absorbed by his own life or death situation he probably still wouldn't have been able to answer Derek, words had literally just completed a mass suicide in the back of his throat.

And if he had possessed the ability to use words what could he say anyway?

Something like 'help I'm being totally devoured by a rogue werewolf but if you could come and save my ass before it consumes all of my limbs I'd be especially grateful? And hey, the reason I smell like my best friend is because we just really like to cuddle a lot? So call me maybe?'

Yeah, right.

This was bad. Bad, very, very bad.

And then the werewolf howled, not in an I'm the alpha and a badass so do what I say kind of way but a hey I'm hungry and/or horny and this looks like a pretty tasty snack all wrapped up in metal kind of howl. It was like the jeep was one of those cereal boxes with a prize hidden inside and Stiles was the prize.

God and even the most sensible kids ate them. He was so dead.

The werewolf opened its jaws in a terrifying display of poor dental hygiene and Stiles swore, scrambling away from sudden vision of horror. The jeep's engine stalled and suddenly the freaking werewolf was gone.

Just gone- like nowhere.

A sudden poof and that was it, scary werewolf bye bye. But Stiles just knew he wasn't that lucky. It was definitely coming back. Only he had no idea what freaking direction.

His head whipped around as he surveyed the area frantically trying to guess where the fuck this thing was going to come from. It was like those tv game shows where you had about six identical doors and somehow through no feat of your own or any semblance of skill you had to pick the right freaking door.

Except he had no idea. Oh God. Where the hell was it?

"Oh fuck. Fuck. _Fuck." _He muttered under his breath, reaching blindly underneath the seat for what he swore Scott had forgotten take out of his car the last time they went out in the woods for werewolf practise.

And he had, thank you fuck. Oh Jesus. It was still there.

His shaking fingers closed around the handle of Scott's baseball bat just as the werewolf smashed through the driver's window with an unnatural roar of fury.

Stiles shrieked retrieving the bat and swinging uncoordinatedly at air as he scrambled across the seats to get the fuck away from the psycho werewolf. It pushed its entire hairy shoulder into the small space it had smashed through, not enough to force its entire flank into the car but just enough to reach him.

Oh God. And it smelt too.

Of dirt and blood and other things he didn't want to name or think about ever again. He gagged as its smell permeated the small space, swatting desperately at the werewolf again practically choking on the distorted sounds of fear coming from his own throat as its clawed hand snatched at his sleeve, snarling brutally as it enclosed around his wrist.

Holy shit fuck. He was so dead.

This- this was it. He was going to die.

He wondered distantly if maybe the werewolf would want to rape him like the others and he very nearly started screaming again. Turned out he shouldn't have been worrying about Derek taking his virginity at all. Because the universe had something much worse planned out for him.

The werewolf paused and Stiles heart stopped with it as the beast suddenly stilled, sniffing at the air as he tried to slowly adjust his grip on the bat while it was distracted and not maiming him. Its snout twitched before it was suddenly releasing him with an almost unsatisfied grunt of reproach.

Stiles promptly forgot how to breathe and it pulled itself out of the window taking the driver's door with it when it got stuck. He tried not to wince as the monster literally wrenched the whole door away sensing exactly how much that was going to cost him before the wolf was tearing off into the trees with an unfulfilled howl of rage.

Stiles sat there frozen for a moment, his grip on his cell phone slackening as he dropped it onto the jeep's floor, Derek's frantic voice still coming through the speaker before he slid out of the suddenly open to the element's driver door.

It was a monumentally stupid thing for him to do, especially after what had just happened but he had to know.

He wobbled on his feet but managed an awkward shuffle towards the pink material now flapping in sick greeting from the sudden breeze. He used the side of the jeep for support barely glancing at the deep ridges the rogue werewolf's claw marks had made in the metal, the indents of its hands as it had seized the back of it.

The tyres had left some serious burn outs on the road but his attention was focused entirely on that pink material fluttering sadly in the fading light.

He staggered up the small incline of the slope, slipping slightly on the dead leaves that cluttered the ground feeling sick when he spotted specks of blood intermixing with the dirt and leaves.

Derek's car came roaring down the street like a demon on wheels, tyres screaming as he slid the car across the lane and into park behind his jeep. Stiles wanted to go to him, but this was so much more important than anything that he could ever have wanted.

The pink was calling to him.

She was there where he'd thought she'd be, curled up into a foetal position, still barely alive and all thanks to those precious few minutes Stiles had given her when he'd interrupted them.

Oh God.

He didn't recognise her, even with all of her injuries and her terrible nakedness as he approached her shivering body, slowly removing Scott's jacket. Her eyes were red with tears and deep claw marks as if the monster had tried to touch her face whilst he'd been…

She managed a weak moan and the sound was like a knife in his chest, a bleak summation of everything she'd lived through in the last hour and Stiles managed a soft, comforting sound as he gently covered her with the jacket, shielding her naked body from the silent judgement of the impenetrable woods laid out before them like some sick audience to her pain.

"It's okay, it's okay" he murmured but he was sobbing, thick and heavy agonised sounds as he softly pulled her head into his lap in a pointless effort to make her more comfortable. He didn't need to look at her bruised and broken form to know that it was too late for her, or the blood that rapidly soaked his pants as he held her, but for the moment it was enough.

It was enough.

Her torn lips pulled together into a wretched smile that he knew pained her, but was only for him. For a person she didn't even know but would remember for the rest of her life. And then finally, as if her misery had all been for nothing, her shuddering chest eased and she drifted, going to a place that he could not follow.

The stillness of the woods pressed down on his heart making him bleed, aching for a little more time, for a reality where he'd stopped this from happening at all. Where she hadn't been murdered.

And he sat there, holding her in his deadened arms.

* * *

Derek managed to separate them before the Sheriff arrived, wrapping Stiles into his own warm embrace and gently pulling him away from the crime scene. He'd grabbed Stiles' backpack from the jeep and taken his keys without a word, handing them to a suit with a face before gently leading him away from the area.

Stiles was completely incomprehensible, not even aware of where he was anymore or who he was with letting himself be led away in a daze. Some part of him registered he was in shock, the mind numbing headache reminding him that he was still alive but he felt this all vaguely like an out of body experience.

There were people everywhere and he couldn't recognise any of them so lost was he in his own thoughts.

It was only when he spotted the pink material again, of what he now knew to be the remains of her dress that he was properly roused into action.

He thrashed in Derek's grip breaking free with a surprising display of strength before he strode towards it stretching on his toes to reach into the branches it had become ensnared in, yanking it free with an angry snarl.

Nobody trusted him around the crime scene after that, Derek throwing him over his shoulder again and walking down the slope towards his car but it was unnecessary. He'd done what he needed to do.

They were pulling into Derek's driveway when he finally got a hold of himself again at least enough to understand that Derek was talking to him and that for once he was actually sitting in the passenger side.

Huh.

"You weren't wearing my jacket" he said phrasing the statement like a hidden question.

Stiles felt his insides twist at the way he sort of sounded hurt. "I didn't- I wasn't"

"That's why he didn't back off straight away" he continued quietly. "Because you'd confused him"

He briefly remembered the beast's claws clamping over the sleeves of Scott's jacket and flinched at the memory. "But Scott's a beta-"

"And an omega can take a beta in a fair fight" he explained. "Even a rogue one, but they'd never risk an alpha. He could have killed you. He was going to"

Stiles felt the need to defend his actions because he wanted, no dammit, he needed this stupid alpha to believe that he could look after himself. "I had a baseball bat" he insisted.

Derek actually laughed. Like the sound of laughter, came out of his mouth- his mouth only it seemed heavily weighted with mockery and maybe just a hint of disdain. He glared at him, still shaken from tonight's events and really trying to see something in Derek that didn't make him want to resort to an irrational display of violence all over his attractive face.

For a second he still wished he had the bat. But then he managed to pull his shit together and make a very flattering comment of where Derek could stick said baseball bat before he freed himself from the seat belt and stormed into the house.

There was nowhere else for Derek to go so he was unsurprised when the alpha followed him.

"You're still pissed about yesterday aren't you?" Derek called after him as Stiles tried to storm off very sensibly to Derek's bedroom. It was a calculated retreat, nothing more. "Because of what I said?"

He tried to keep his cool but Derek's words had him turning around again. "Don't you dare ever speak those words of blasphemy in my presence ever again!"

"Are you fucking serious?" Derek growled out starting to look mightily pissed himself. "All because I said-"

"No!" Stiles yelled trying to run away and cover his ears at the same time. It was too difficult a manoeuvre because he tripped and had to use his hands to grab the edge of the couch leaving his ears undefended for what was coming.

The words that must not be mentioned.

"-that the meat was a little dry and that I didn't like curly fries"

Stiles, letting out a pretty choice battle cry launched his body at the taller, musclier and no doubt could squash him like a bug, Derek. "It's my signature dish you freaking sour wolf!" he yelled prepared to die for his belief in the value of the curly fry and burger.

Derek caught him mid leap seizing him by his throat and slamming him up against the wall. There was nothing gentle about it either and Stiles eyes widened at the suddenly elongated claws and his very red eyes that were abruptly burning into him.

"I won't apologise for who I am" he snarled. "But you keep playing games-"

"No I'm not!"

"-fighting me at every turn, making everything so fucking hard because you refuse to believe that I might actually care about you!"

He stopped struggling against Derek's unbreakable grip. Was this it? Was this the moment when they declared their undying love for one another and started screwing like rabbits? Was Derek even capable of that with his stunted emotions? The sex part he knew the alpha had in the bag, but the whole emotion thing?

Derek was basically a prickly werewolf cactus refusing to let anybody close enough to touch him so yeah, he needed to work on that.

"Do you?" he countered watching Derek's face as his expression tightened but the grip on his throat loosened until he wasn't touching him at all. He wanted Derek's eyes on him, confirming what he was starting to suspect might be actually serious emotions coming from the alpha, and all because of him.

And if that didn't make him feel like the badass that had finally made a robot cry real tears of human emotion then he wasn't sure what else would. But the alpha turned away, denying him what he wanted and walking off in the direction of the guest bedroom clearly already making an informed decision on his sleeping arrangements for the night.

Watching his retreating form was enough to get Stiles to make a complete ass of himself. There was no way. He couldn't just let him walk off like that, not when he had words in his mouth and feelings leaking out of every pore of his skin.

"Sleep with me" Stiles called after him and when Derek froze, in complete and utter shock he hastily acknowledged his foot in mouth disease resurfacing again. "Shit. Um not like that. I mean in the same bed- with me. Uh tonight. Unless of course you've got something better to do," he rambled on. "Or like if you need some quality time with yourself what with heat week coming up. You don't want to get blue balls or anything. I've heard that's pretty bad for a werewolf because well obviously you already know the- uh reasons"

Reasons he did not want to think about with Derek directly in front of him. His face heated up and the alpha approached him again, normal eyes and normal hands watching him and reaching out to cup his face. The touch was both soothing and thrilling all at once. And for right now that was exactly what Stiles needed.

"Stiles" he said and his eyes had gone soft, softer than he'd ever seen them before. It must have been an optical malfunction, or something because he couldn't really believe that was what he was seeing. "What are you doing?"

Stiles really wasn't sure. His emotions were all over the place and he was sort of in that vulnerable I-just-watched-somebody-die-and-it-was-freaking-terrible place plus Derek had basically just admitted to having the feelings as well and he'd be stupid to deny them both what they really wanted.

Which was apparently each other. Now wasn't that a fucking surprise.

"I'm saying we should snuggle" he blurted out. "Or spoon? Whichever you prefer. Or maybe just the scenting thing because I really don't like smelling like Scott"

Derek growled again pulling him forward for neck ravishing time. Stiles even tipped his head back to give Derek better access because he was feeling so mighty generous. And maybe, there was the tiniest, miniscule, atom sized possibility that he wanted it too. But the jury was out on that for the moment.

"Then why did you do it?" Derek asked tongue sliding over his bite mark which still hadn't healed properly because the idiot kept sinking his big, stupid, alpha teeth into it whenever he got close enough, the cannibal. He probably needed psychiatric help from Lydia more than Stiles did.

"Uh because pickles are just cucumbers soaked in evil?" he guessed feeling suddenly guilty that he'd misjudged what Derek was all about. And because his reasons for not trusting him suddenly weren't making a lot of sense.

But then Derek was biting down on his neck again, breaking the skin for like the billionth freaking time and Stiles remembered exactly what he was all about. The werewolf sex.

And clearly his misjudgement of that brief judgement was just a further misjudgement of his earlier judgements. So yeah.

Conclusion: Stiles was very, very stupid and could now see the alpha's true damn character. A total freaking sex addict. Who in some ironic twist of fate was matched up with a reluctant virgin who didn't really feel like being fucked by a wild animal. Just saying.

"Stiles don't make me force it out of you"

If that wasn't the statement of the week he didn't know what was.

But he was certainly curious to see how that would unfold. Would Derek tease him with his body? An all American werewolf strip show? Because that would be stupendous. Or maybe he'd start an all out groping war between them, leaving them both breathless and hot and wrecked and…

Derek groaned against him, muffling the sound against his skin and he shuddered, knowing his cock was stirring within his pants. "Stop. Thinking. That. Now"

Stiles hastily began to purify his thoughts with kittens and rainbows and unicorns but that seemed more like a drug trip then an innocent daydream or cold shower. But seeing as he was literally only high on the hot alphaness that was Derek, it seemed pretty unlikely he was experiencing one. It's not like he'd eaten a batch of questionable brownies at school or anything, so he stuck with his hippie thoughts and they distracted him enough to calm the fuck down.

He could be chaste, totally chaste like a freaking nun if that would help the situation.

"I was trying to protect my virtue" he explained because technically it was true though it didn't seem too believable at the moment what with him being evidently horny but he was fairly certain the werewolf lying radar would just blip over a small technicality like that.

A deep rumble came from within Derek as he heard him and this one, this one definitely was a serious laugh. Now Stiles was two for two. Sooner or later he'd be able to figure out what was really behind that wounded stoic exterior. He reckoned under all that brooding that Derek was secretly made of mush; a total closet softie.

As well as a raging sex addict, but the two clearly went hand in hand. He was a complicated individual.

Whatever Derek was he wanted to find out. And Gerard Argent's words today made him only that more curious. Maybe some research…?

"Trust me it's safe" the alpha chuckled licking at the wound he'd created in such a tantalising manner that Stiles was forced to adjust his pants due to the fact that they were now unbelievably tight. "Your virtue belongs to me"

Belongs to- what? Stiles gaped at him. "Are you shitting me? Do you get that I can just kick your little werewolf ass onto the couch for that kind of messed up observation?"

Derek only huffed out a snort of amusement slinging Stiles over his shoulder- and dammit did he have a shoulder kink or what?- before carrying him up the staircase. He couldn't resist slapping the palm of his hand against the alpha's ass in punishment.

"Mush!" he called, sniggering when Derek made a strangled noise in his throat, flinching away from the touch. "Do you have a thing for carrying teenager boys like you're bringing a kill in that you just hunted?"

He could almost see Derek rolling his eyes. "Do you have a thing for touching my ass whenever you get the chance?"

Stiles had to give him that one. First because clearly it was true and second, seriously it was a great ass.

"Touché. But I've got impulse issues and you do have a very nice ass. It's like we were made for each other"

Derek grunted in clear acknowledgment of their destined relationship and the perfection that was indeed his ass or maybe he was just trying not to laugh because Stiles was kind of acting ridiculous but whatever.

He totally had a werewolf snuggle buddy and his virginity was still intact so he was pretty damn proud of himself.

Until of course Derek deposited him on the bed and started stripping off his clothes. Only this time, it was all of his clothes. Queue the internal and external freakout explosion.

"What the fuck…" he gasped out, squirming away from Derek's heated touch and the alpha smirked, with perfectly normal eyes so he had no freaking clue what was about to happen.

Because normal eyes meant normal Derek and if he was in control of his wolf then that meant he was doing it on purpose. Shit.

And then Derek started scenting him before he could escape his grip and Stiles suddenly knew why the alpha had used naked scenting as a threat before.

Because oh. Oh.

His tongue was licking over every inch of his very available skin and Stiles fingers had slipped into his hair as a means to prevent any further licking, not so he could pull him closer. Not at all. He moaned as Derek's mouth closed over one of his nipples, teasing at the sensitive area with his tongue and making Stiles incredibly incoherent and hard.

And then suddenly Derek was biting down and Stiles was letting out a desperate whine, arching into the touch and feeling his skin basically burst into flames. It was like Derek was made out of hottie werewolf lava and he couldn't survive the touch.

Derek's mouth continued at a torturing pace licking, kissing, biting and sucking his way down Stiles' stomach as his muscles twitched from all of the attention. He kept trying to squirm away but then he was coming straight back to Derek's mouth and hands- oh his big warm hands that seemed to be melting his flesh away and making him stiffer than he'd ever been in his life- because he ached for more.

"I don't- " he gasped out. "Remember you- doing… that- oh, oh wow… uh that before"

He struggled to form a coherent statement but it was like every inch of him, body and soul was rejoicing in the fact that Derek had his fine hands and talented mouth all over him, and he wanted more, dammit, screw the consequences.

"Is this… oh. Oh. A new type of uh… scenting thing?"

He groaned when Derek finally- the asshole was taking way too much time to reach the destination Stiles wanted him to arrive at pronto- reached the place where little Stiles was waiting for him, aching and hard and ready to be touched.

Derek paused over his crotch and Stiles just watched the glorious image of Derek sexitude, unable to believe that this was actually happening and that he was letting it.

But then it wasn't because suddenly Derek was flipping his very naked body over onto his stomach where his very unprotected ass was hovering centimetres from the alpha's face.

Stiles nearly choked on the sudden mattress to face manoeuvre, twisting himself to try to see what was happening but Derek held him down by his neck, pinning him to the bed with his thighs and a terrifying growl. Through his lust crazed brain he managed to register his own terror and frustration at his own stupidity. Derek had him exactly where he wanted him. There was no way Stiles could throw him off now and he was too horny and too panicked to think of something that would save him.

"You think you're so damn smart" Derek snarled in an angry- why was he angry again?- tone that had him shivering all over.

He nipped at Stiles' shoulder, smoothing his hands down his skin slowly when he flinched, caressing his skin oh so softly that it was almost calming.

But then Derek reached his bare ass and this was so not what he'd meant by snuggling.

"No, stop" he shouted, struggling harder than ever before, but Derek didn't even listen to him. He wondered if he was too far gone already, that this was going to be it.

The actual moment where Derek lost control and just took what he thought belonged to him.

He was going to lose his v-card to a horny werewolf that couldn't even think past the need to fulfil its own pleasure and he nearly sobbed at the expectation of agony.

But then Derek was on his right ass cheek, his mouth coming over the sensitive flesh and his teeth sank in, biting.

On his ass. Derek bit him on the ass. What the _holy _fuck?

Stiles spluttered out an incoherent babble of word nonsense. When did it ever mention in alpha law the need to bite Stiles Stilinski's ass?

And then the alpha was kissing up his spine working his way back up to his neck before gifting him with the ability to move his limbs freely. Derek rolled to the side, looking over his body as if trying to memorise every inch of it.

Stiles wasn't likely to forget this little clusterfuck either. His face was flushed, his body twitching in expectation, arousal obvious and Derek was seriously just playing with him?

What kind of sick fucker was he dealing with here?

"What the hell was that?" he demanded scrambling to get up and put some distance between them. He would have tried the doorway but Derek was closer and would stop him getting away. Despite years of being desensitised to utter humiliation, he felt seriously embarrassed and maybe just a little bit offended. Who wouldn't want a piece of Stilinski?

"Proving a point" Derek muttered calmly glancing down at Stiles' very needy reaction to him. He was tempted to cover his erection but figured there was no point seeing as Derek was going to be looking at it until the day he died. He was still trying to keep up with what had just happened.

"A point?" he echoed. "Was the point proving how much of an ass you are? Or how easily it is to overpower and scare the living shit out of me?"

He was practically yelling but Derek was already seizing his legs and yanking him back towards him, lifting his body into Derek's fully clothed lap, coming into contact with the alpha's own very obvious alpha business though thankfully his clothes were keeping it in check.

He was too angry to freak the fuck out when his erection poked Derek's stomach and he moaned at the stimulation because he was distracted from preparing for a full blown, highly worded lecture that would go on for hours.

But Derek kissed the words out of Stiles mouth before he could get started, cupping his face gently and holding him close like he was something precious. Stiles couldn't deal with the emotional whiplash, first Derek was angry and taking advantage of him and then he was all gushy and romantic? Was he bipolar or something?

It certainly had something to do with him being an prickly, android, werewolf cactus. Stiles was positive.

The alpha broke away, leaving them both gasping and Stiles completely dazed. He couldn't even remember what he'd been thinking about before. Was it possible that Derek's tongue was slowly killing all of his brain cells?

Yes, yes indeed. It was very possible. In fact, he could steadily feel his IQ lowering.

"The point was that you want this too and by Saturday you'll be begging for it" Derek whispered softly skimming his jaw line with his fingertips. "So you should stop kidding yourself"

Stiles gaped like a fish and Derek took the opportunity to stick his tongue down his throat again, not that he was complaining but whoa. And he was bringing up the heat lie again. Did Derek really mean that the heat was going to hit Stiles too? Was he serious? But he'd never even heard of that happening, was he just spinning a really freaking good tangle of lies or should he just start hyperventilating now?

"But- but I'm not a werewolf" he protested. "And strictly speaking humping furniture during the full moon is pretty much a werewolf thing"

"Do you really think that reading a couple pages on alpha law makes you an expert? Or will stop this from happening?" Derek murmured against his throat and Stiles flinched away from the sound of his voice.

So he knew, how long had he freaking known then? Was this just an ever bigger game than he'd assumed? Was this all some plot for the sake of mind fuckery? Would the sky really start falling come Saturday? Should he just lock himself away in his panic room now?

"How long?" he demanded feeling his heart race and hating himself for it. He wanted to pull away but Derek would not release him and it was as easy as playing tug of war with a freaking giant. "You fucking hypocrite, I'm the one playing games? How long have you known?"

Derek bit down on his neck again, and Stiles hated the sound that it drew from his lips. "It was pretty obvious Stiles, you're not exactly subtle. Plus your dad has access to alpha law as a part of his job, doesn't he? It wasn't that hard to figure out"

He couldn't muster up the energy to feel totally enraged that Derek had known what he was trying to do all along. Technically they were both playing games. But maybe it was just because they were strangers and totally wary of each other, being sneaky and going behind each others backs was to be expected.

"I don't trust you" Stiles said finally feeling increasingly uncomfortable being so close to the alpha when he was still nursing a pretty hard as nails erection. An erection he very much so desired to take care of at his earliest convenience. Derek grumbled low in his throat and he tried not to shudder.

"I mean I do, but I don't trust you not to uh- you know tear me apart because if you haven't noticed you're pretty freaking huge and I am human and you know soft and not capable of bending that way"

Derek's hand slid from his face straight down to his cock and suddenly he was in complete and utter ecstasy.

"You're going to have to trust me" Derek murmured, voice hot and breathless against the shell of his ear as he moaned and curved into his hand like it was water and he'd spent days wandering through the desert, the touch something he needed to survive. "I know what I'm doing"

Stiles rocked his hips using Derek's arms as an anchor to keep him upright, sliding his hands over the material of the alpha's long sleeved shirt, irritated by the barrier preventing him from touching the hot skin underneath. Why was Derek still wearing clothes? It wasn't fair.

"I can ah- see that" he gasped out knowing this pleasure was too much for him, that he was going to shatter into a billion pieces if Derek didn't let up the torture.

Derek buried his face into the crook of Stiles shoulder and he was hardly surprised when his mouth found his neck again- what was it a wolf fetish or something?

But he _was _surprised when Derek's claws suddenly extended on the very tender area of his cock, biting into his flesh again and his orgasm exploded through him like a freaking freight train_._

He let out a brief whimper of disbelief as he slumped against the alpha's chest feeling hot and sweaty and in desperate need of a shower.

Derek kissed his mouth again making him feel like a total whore and he let himself be carried into the bathroom to clean up.

He felt a righteous spark of satisfaction when he slipped slightly against the alpha's hold grinding accidentally on Derek's own tightened pants and the alpha letting out a hissing breath from the unintentional sensation.

Stiles was a little bit pissed that he'd been screwed over in every way except the literal sense so he pretended to be completely oblivious to the werewolf's needs. There was no way in hell that he was going to be helping out the jerkface asshole anytime soon in that department.

Derek was just going to have to wait for the heat to hit Stiles, if it ever did because he sure as hell didn't think it was possible and stubbornly refused to believe it. He pushed himself free of the alpha and climbed into the shower without any invitation to Derek.

This was worse than the words that must not be mentioned.

And Stiles ass was still stinging from where Derek had bitten him.

It took every ounce of his self control not to reach behind himself and inspect the sensitive area, he wouldn't give Derek the satisfaction.

But he didn't need to see it to know he wouldn't be able to sit properly tomorrow. Oh yeah, Derek was going to die a horrible death, preferably with lots of pain. It was just down to Stiles to mastermind the whole thing.

And he intended to. Nobody bit his freaking ass and got away with it.

* * *

Stiles was still not able to put his full weight onto his right ass cheek when Derek drove him to school the next morning because his jeep was now missing a freaking door. He was still at a serious level of pissed and fuming but Derek kept using his newfound weakness- basically touching him all over and kissing him any chance he got- and damn the alpha was taking liberties.

He didn't know what to do with this sudden overwhelming amount of PDA but it was wearing down all of his rage which he was intending to use to plot against the alpha and sow seeds of revenge and whatnot.

But seriously his _ass. _

Stiles couldn't let it go.

Derek drove a different car today. A black Camaro because apparently Stiles comment about Jeeves missing his Mercedes had encouraged some kind of emotion out of Derek that coerced him into switching cars.

Not that Stiles had even known he'd possessed more than one car seeing as Derek hadn't included garage on his tour of the den of dastardly deeds. He figured the reason for this being it was a hidden treasure trove of Derek's personal information that Stiles could browse without his permission at any given opportunity. He intended to do so when he next had time available.

He certainly hadn't forgotten his determination to discover more about Derek. Know thy enemy definitely had a certain amount of logic to it and it seemed Derek was now filling Jeeves' role as Stiles arch nemesis without even trying. It was clearly time to up his game though, he was playing with a whole different level of evil: sexy evil. It was the most dangerous evil Stiles had ever come across, he needed to be well prepared.

They sat in Derek's car in the school parking lot while the alpha kissed him thoroughly destroying more of Stiles much needed brain cells. Seriously he was going to start failing his classes if Derek didn't let up. Or maybe he'd die from asphyxiation because he was definitely being deprived of air.

When they finally broke apart, Stiles managed to discover the use of words which was a pretty freaking awesome feat of brain functioning capability considering Derek had basically turned him into hormonal teenager mush.

"You're still an asshole" he muttered gingerly rising out of the seat.

Derek chuckled and smacked his ass as he attempted to exit the car delicately without irritating the very painful area. A spark a pain flashed through him and Stiles said something that his dad would have arrested him for if he'd heard the words leave his lips as he twisted away.

He slammed the car door with more force than a girl scout could ever possess and felt immensely pleased by his own badassery.

That was he did, until Jackson who passed by the already departing Camaro laughed at him.

"Somebody looks like they're having a great time being the alpha's bitch" Jackson sniffed at him. "Got a bit of action last night, Stilinski?"

He gaped at Jackson's expression. What. What even. Werewolves shouldn't say shit like that just because they could smell it. Jesus fuck didn't they have a freaking clue what boundaries were?

And wait a minute. What the fuck was Jackson doing at school? Did werewolf heat mean anything to the utter douchebag?

"Why are you here?" he countered. "Shouldn't you be locked away and humping furniture by now?"

Jackson face morphed into that I'm better than you fucktard expression and Stiles rolled his eyes. "Please, I'm not like those pathetic losers who need to screw everything they see around heat week. Unlike them, I can control myself"

Stiles couldn't believe Jackson's arrogance. Well he could he was _Jackson _and had been arrogant his whole freaking life but what he couldn't believe was that he was being stupid about it. Control, bullshit indeed.

"Sure you do, buddy" he agreed limping into the school.

Jackson followed him in.

"Get a _lot _of action last night?" he sneered, leering at the way Stiles was favouring his left leg because his pants kept rubbing against the sensitive area of his ass, where his asshole boyfriend had bitten him. Figures Jackson would be the first to notice_._

"Why don't you just try and impregnate some helpless furniture somewhere" Stiles shot back, quickening his pace to get away from the tool.

Jackson only laughed, letting him go and Stiles tried not to react to the sudden need to start wailing on him.

His day kind of sucked after that, not that he'd been expecting anything less. Scott wasn't there, he'd had lacrosse practise before lunch and the bench warming was not working wonders on his ass. Plus Coach Finstock kept giving him these odd looks like he just couldn't figure out that Stiles was gay werewolf married to an alpha.

But it was pretty big news, he must live under a very heavy, boulder sized rock not to know about it. Practise was pretty shit too, what with most of the team being absent, working through their heats and the need to sex anything up that moved, except Jackson who was playing with his usual take no prisoners, everyone must and will die approach to the game.

There would be injuries. But most of the team were smart enough to get out of his way.

He tried to watch the game and distract himself from the total inferno of pain that burned upon contact with the bench but his head wasn't really in it. Derek would pay for this.

So he sat there, ass burning and using his free time to consider all of the painful ways he could destroy Derek, like into minuscule pieces destroy and then hide the remains. It seemed to be a welcome distraction because he got so wrapped in his little murder fantasy that he forgot the stinging of his ass for a good fifteen minutes.

But then the field got a little bit more interesting than his murder plot.

Jackson was running the ball to the net, which Danny was defending when suddenly, the werewolf rich boy didn't stop after he'd scored. He just kept running, ploughing straight into Danny as if he'd insulted his porche or something.

Danny went down like a sack of bricks and Stiles jumped to his feet as everybody else stopped what they were doing and stared, shocked. Jackson didn't get up either, it was like he'd collapsed or something and Danny was struggling to get out from underneath him, eyes wide.

It was probably the strangest thing to happen that day. Mostly because everybody liked Danny, Jackson especially seeing as they were best freaking friends so nobody seemed to understand what the fuck was happening.

Stiles watched open mouthed as Danny finally got his footing, pushing Jackson off of him and hauling his little werewolf ass out of the goalie net they were currently tangled in. He looked surprised, really surprised but not angry.

And Jackson seemed to be losing his shit. He snarled pushing Danny away from him and storming off without another word. Everybody watched him go.

"You alright Danny?" Coach Finstock called across the field. "What the hell was that?"

Danny was watching Jackson's departing figure and he was frowning. "I don't know, Coach"

Stiles sat back down unthinkingly and then nearly jumped a freaking mile in the air when his ass protested the rough treatment. Right, back to Derek annihilation.

Nobody saw Jackson in the locker room after practise and Coach Finstock went off in search of him. Stiles just figured he was having a diva moment and went to check on Danny instead. "You sure you're okay?" he asked. "Because Jackson normally treats everybody like shit except you. You guys fighting or something? Because you should fix that, we need reasonably satisfied Jackson or were all going to die"

Danny gave him one of those you're a complete idiot, Stiles looks and he figured maybe his input was not needed.

"I don't know what's wrong with him" he admitted. "He's been acting weird all morning"

Stiles shrugged. "It's Jackson. He's always weird"

"Yeah but Lydia said…"

Lydia! He'd forgotten that he was planning to talk to her about Derek and feelings and such.

"Gotta go Danny" he rushed out throwing his backpack over his shoulder and racing out of the boy's locker room.

He'd nearly made it halfway to the Cafeteria before he remembered leaving his lacrosse stick behind. Shit. He'd been planning to practise on Derek's head with it. He paused for a second, before cursing the universe and everything else in it that seemed to take satisfaction in making everything harder for him and ran back the way he'd come. And his ass was still stinging like a bitch.

The lunch bell had already gone and he was expecting a totally empty locker room as he barrelled into it locating his stick and scooping it off the ground where he'd dumped it earlier but that was not the sight that he was rewarded with.

Jackson had Danny crowded up against the wall and Stiles was about to do something, shout or at least attempt to stop Jackson from killing his best friend before Danny started moaning.

Like sex sound moaning.

And then it clicked. Oh.

Stiles' jaw opened uselessly and just kind of hung there in the breeze while he realised exactly what he was looking at.

Jackson seemed to be marking the hell out of Danny's neck which clearly had to be a werewolf thing because Stiles' neck was still not healed because of stupid Derek and Danny had his head tipped back, exposing more of his throat, eyes wide and pupils blown.

So that was why Jackson and Lydia had broken up. Huh. He felt like somehow he should've seen this coming. Clearly somebody wasn't as immune to werewolf heat as he'd thought. He should have felt embarrassed or wary about the whole thing but it was impossible. The fact that it was happening to Jackson was just freaking hilarious.

Stiles snickered. "Nice control there, Jackson" he said wagging his Lacrosse stick in their direction in a tut tut kind of way. Danny finally noticed he was there and blushed but he was too busy about to be screwed out of his mind to push Jackson away. And Jackson only growled into his neck, flipping Stiles' off without looking at him, showing off his claws as he did so.

"Don't forget protection" he teased unable to resist. Jackson deserved it after being so cocky about controlling himself. "As you were"

And then he left, still snickering because it was awesome. He couldn't wait to tell somebody, Scott or Allison. Their faces would just be priceless. Though it was more likely to be Allison because she was actually at school today.

But now he needed to talk to Lydia. He ran all the way back to the Cafeteria, wheezing heavily when he made it inside, beelining immediately for the table Lydia and Allison were seated at.

"Jackson's fucking Danny in the boy's locker room" he gasped out pleased at the shock that registered on Allison's face. Lydia however seemed pretty unaffected by the news.

"And that is why we are no longer dating" she said flipping her strawberry blonde tresses in an I don't give a fuck kind of way.

He took the seat next to Allison preparing himself for a terrifying encounter of the homosexual psyche kind. She smirked at him in an I am omnipotent and thus do not need an explanation, foolish mortal now tell me of your experiences with the alpha, let me analyse your brain and tell you just how royally fucked you are.

And this was how he knew that Lydia was someday going to take over the world.


	6. Nej

Thank you so much for all the comments and for just enjoying what has leaked out of my brain :D let me know if I make any mistakes because this is unbeta-ed and I'm not as much as a grammar nazi as I'd thought :P

* * *

**Nej.**

"So uh- I wanted to have that talk now. About Derek," he puffed out, still getting his breath back and rushing the words out before he could stop himself or get worked up enough to chicken out and realise just what he was offering Lydia. Who was scary as shit when she wanted to be, seriously.

Allison raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Lydia only smirked, and he knew right then that he'd just sold her his soul or maybe handed over his testicles or something as she folded her perfectly manicured nails on the table. The idea of those nails anywhere near his balls had him very concerned.

"Yes Jackson mentioned you had fun last night."

Stiles let out an outraged sound. "He's _telling _everyone?" he demanded. "Oh he's so going to pay for that. That's it. I'm spreading the news about Mr Jackson- I'm so in control I'm fucking my best friend-Whittemore and what's currently occurring in the boy's locker room."

Matt who was walking past their table paused as if he was listening. Stiles narrowed his eyes at him and the guy smiled at Allison who didn't appear to notice as he took the camera hanging from his neck into his hands and headed out of the Cafeteria like he was seriously considering taking photographic evidence of Jackson's and Danny's sudden relationship acceleration.

Stiles hoped he would because then maybe Jackson would get territorial and eat him. There was just something about the guy that he didn't trust.

"Shut up," Lydia snapped. "And tell me about Derek."

Stiles liked a woman who knew what she wanted and also knew how to terrify those around her. It was an unbeatable combination.

So he told her. Not everything. He didn't want to freak her out and Allison was sitting right next to him; Scott would maim him if he found out he'd tainted her with sexual promiscuity. Though he couldn't resist bitching about why he was limping like one of those pirates with a freaking peg leg. Lydia laughed at the explanation and Allison looked scandalised.

"He bit you?" Allison whispered. "On your…"

"Natis," Lydia clarified in that mysterious encyclopaedic knowledge she tended to supply whenever she spoke. It sounded like Latin, or something but Stiles was too caught up in his own humiliation to pay much attention to her.

"And then the bastard…"

Lydia started laughing. But not like a chuckle, one of those real belly aching kind of laughs where you couldn't breathe and started crying because it was so fucking hilarious. Stiles mouth fell open at her reaction because that was probably the last thing he would've expected from Lydia Martin.

"I had no idea that someone who gets perfect grades could be so stupid."

Stiles just blinked owlishly at her. What? How was this supposed to help him in the war against Derek? Was she already taking the alpha's side?

"You are unbelievably lucky that you're mated to someone who has such control over himself because I'm fairly certain you'd already be dead."

He just stared at her. Why did everybody keep telling him this? It must have been another sign from the universe, the message being that the universe thought it would be quite fucking funny if he was dead. Seriously did he have a bounty out against him or something?

"What?"

Lydia rolled her eyes and Allison smiled gently which meant she was in on it too. The traitor.

"What Lydia's trying to say is that Derek's been treating you unusually well considering. It's rare for werewolves to possess that much control."

"Considering what?" he demanded really feeling like he was starting to turn into Scott level of obliviousness and that was a terrifying thought. It was true. Derek had been destroying his brain cells with the sheer power of his lips and here was the proof.

"Well there's an age gap. You're constantly surrounded by other werewolves and you've been attacked by a rogue plus you're always getting into trouble and to be honest you don't really have what anybody would call a filter-"

"I have a filter. I can filter things. Do you see me commenting on how your psycho grandpa wants to kill my werewolf boyfriend?"

Lydia gave him a look that spoke a thousand insulting words. It made him quake just that little bit because she possessed the power to destroy him with a glare. Allison didn't look too offended only a little smug.

"Oh," he said realising they were right. "Uh- point taken. Continue."

"That responding to his claim thing is totally out of date, nobody follows those rules anymore," Lydia said sighing at his stupefied expression. "Derek backed off because you were having a little identity crisis and couldn't handle it. He could have fucked you whenever he wanted, he still could. Most werewolves would have."

What. What did this madness mean? Derek had just been humouring him when he'd started reciting alpha law like he was a freaking expert?

"So this means…?" he asked.

Lydia flicked a grape at him and he dodged the missile being launched at his face. "It means Stiles that while you were trying to mess with him he's been going against every instinct keeping you unmarked. He's being goddamn decent and patient with you while you continue to be an idio.t"

Allison nodded at the blasphemy coming from Lydia's mouth. "The um sex part is really important" she said blushing at her own words. "It's a way to strengthen the bond between you and when you haven't um... well you know, it leaves you vulnerable unbonded like that. And it might make Derek snap eventually. It's not common for a werewolf to…"

"Hold out this long," Lydia added helpfully. "He should've fucked you into the mattress by now. You seriously owe him."

"I don't owe him," he insisted feeling his face heat up. "I don't even know him."

"Then find out," Lydia said dismissively. "It's not like it's particle physics or anything."

Stiles thought about that for a moment conceding that maybe she had a point. He could find out about Derek if he really wanted, he just hadn't tried that hard.

"He gave you enough time to figure out what you want."

Stiles paused, thinking about Lydia's words. Had Derek really been doing the decent thing all along? Was he the villain in all this mess? Because that was seriously fucked, Stiles a villain? Mastermind yes definitely. He possessed the qualities of an intellectual badass but joining the dark side was really going to kill his burgeoning hero status.

"What do I want?" he asked genuinely interested to see their conclusion. Did he think she would mention their outstanding and mutual deep love he's been obsessing over for years?

"Him, obviously," Lydia huffed appearing irritated. "Seeing as you've spoken of nothing else for the past hour and haven't even noticed that you're missing class."

Allison looked surprised too. "Oh no," she muttered grabbing her bag and quickly hurrying off because she was such a goody goody when she wasn't shooting people with arrows. Stiles stared at the empty Cafeteria with wide eyes.

Oh God. How had he not noticed that? He turned back to look at Lydia who was pretty damn smug about the whole thing. Geez, no wonder he'd never really tried to talk to her, she was pure badass mother fucker level of evil. But she was right. Here he was finally talking to Lydia but it was all about his problems with Derek and that was literally the extent of what he wanted to discuss with her. He could see their love fizzling away like a fire doused with buckets of water.

How shit crazy was that? Stiles literally didn't know what to do about it. Why on earth would he even be interested in a prickly werewolf cactus anyway? Didn't he have some self respect, or at least a couple more defences against the werewolf sexy? But no instead he was having the feelings. Dear God.

"You should just talk to him," she spoke in an unusually gentle voice. "It's pretty clear that he wants you too."

And then she grabbed her stuff and left, leaving Stiles to sit there stupidly contemplating the meaning of life. And possibly the existence of unicorns because at the moment it wasn't looking like something too impossible.

* * *

He didn't sit there contemplating for long because he came up with a better idea; something a little less time consuming and a hell of a lot more productive than actual class. He didn't really feel like going that much anyway so he snuck off to the library instead lying through his teeth about a free period to get inside because the doors were guarded by a terrible fire breathing dragon woman who happened to be the librarian.

Erica was sitting at a table and for once he didn't feel the need to start the murdering maybe it was because of the silent rule. He wasn't very good at silent murder or silent anything really which was why the librarian was watching him with a familiar sense of suspicion and possibly already sharpening her dragon claws.

Her eyes narrowed. Oh yeah, she definitely remembered him.

He quickly took the seat beside Erica, noting the very pink laptop she was using and wondered if his masculinity could deal with him requesting to borrow it.

It could.

"No," she said not even glancing up from what she was doing.

"You haven't even heard what I'm going to ask yet!" he protested as she turned to glare at him.

"I just know whatever it is I don't want to give it to you."

She didn't attempt to maul him this time so he figured it was a good sign to keep pestering her until she caved. He sighed. "I just wanted to borrow your laptop."

"For what?" she asked immediately interested and highly distrustful like she expected him to use it to favourite raunchy websites or to acquire computer viruses.

Dammit.

"To research the mating cycle of unicorns," he said seriously and she snarled.

"For what?" she snapped. And it was clear that his charm was having little to no effect.

"To search up how you get your hair so spectacular every morning?" he guessed countering with his remarkable wit which Derek's talented mouth hadn't completely destroyed. Yet.

She paused, frowning at him. "Better, but still no. The truth."

He sighed figuring what could it hurt anyway she already knew he was weird. Well, her and the rest of the townsfolk of Beacon Hills who watched him offer himself to an alpha and generally impress them with his unusual Stiles like behaviour. It happens.

"To research Derek," he admitted.

Her smile turned predatory real fast and she laughed. He tried not to react because that would only get her wolfy and pissed and that was not going to get him the laptop. But seriously what was it with everybody laughing at him today?

"Oh Stiles why didn't you just ask, baby?" she said handing the laptop over as if it was the simplest thing in the entire world. The librarian was stalking nearby like a buzzard circling over a dying animal and Stiles quickly lowered his voice, avoiding eye contact like she was a demon that could sense fear.

"What's with the sudden change in tone?" he asked quietly. "I thought you hated me."

She smiled again. "I'll admit that I find your bewildered expression pretty damn funny, and I can tell this whole werewolf mating thing has you fucked sideways so I'm pretty entertained."

"Oh thanks for that," he muttered. "Now I feel so much better about the whole thing."

"He's got no family," she said suddenly volunteering information like they were gossiping buddies all of a sudden. "I think he had a sister left, but then she was murdered."

"Murdered?" he choked out quickly lowering his voice a few decibels as the librarian prowled past again.

"Yeah," she said, nodding at him. "But this was after the Hale house fire that killed everyone else."

"WHAT?" he cried and the librarian women stuck her head out from around a shelf like she was about to shoot fireballs from her nostrils and he put on his most innocent blank me-no-speak-English face. She had to be a werewolf or something equally as terrifying.

What the hell kind of childhood did Derek have? No wonder he was so emotionally stunted. Damn.

"Like his whole family?" he whispered. "Was it an accident?"

She gave him a look, like he was incredibly naïve for asking but it was a legitimate question. One time he'd nearly burnt down his dad's kitchen experimenting with a pancake and waffle concoction. It did not end well. Conclusion: pancakes and waffles were never meant to procreate or sire offspring or demon spawn. Panwaffles were a government conspiracy used to shatter dreams. Let's just say it had been a dark day at Casa de Stilinski.

"It was just after werewolves came out into society, I think. It was in the early days, when people were still terrified about them so I think it was a bunch of humans that…"

"Burned the house down?" Stiles gasped eyes widening at the horrible tale. Erica's eyes narrowed further as if he still didn't freaking understand.

"With everyone still in it," she added and he gaped at her. He'd remembered a big house fire that had wiped out an entire family, but he hadn't known that it was Derek's. It had been a pretty big news thing at the time but he'd been a bit too young to really pay attention.

"How do you know all this?"

"My dad's an insurance examiner. He was asked to look over the incident after the first insurance guy was murdered."

Stiles froze. "Did Derek?..."

"No I don't think so. It was the school bus driver, remember?"

Oh yeah Stiles remembered. They'd had to endure the bus turned crime scene for weeks. Scott had thought that he'd been the one that had killed him. He'd had some freaky dream about it and they'd kept it a secret, for his own protection. That had not been a fun couple of days. It wasn't until he'd gone back onto the bus that he'd finally accepted that he didn't do it, some sort of werewolf mystical powers revealing to him what Stiles had been attempting to sink into his brain for days.

"I think he'd been involved in the whole thing. So they asked my dad to take a look at the incident report again, against Derek's wishes."

Stiles was surprised. "Against his wishes?"

"Yes, he wanted the investigation dropped. I don't know why, maybe he'd already figured out who was to blame."

"What and killed them werewolf style?" he asked choking out a laugh which literally keeled over and died at her you're so stupid that's exactly what happened, dumbass expression.

Oh. It probably shouldn't have surprised him so much. No doubt Derek had performed some serious alpha destruction in the past. How many did she think he'd killed? Oh shit. Did that make him more inclined towards murder then the next cranky ass werewolf?

"Read this," she said shortly, shoving the laptop practically into his lap. It was an article about the Hale house fire and he scanned the articles pictures briefly before he started reading. And by the time he'd finished he didn't know what to think anymore.

It was so fucked. Eight people perished in the fire that wiped out Derek's family. And Erica neglected to mention that they hadn't just burned werewolves.

There had been humans in that house too.

Stiles just sat there frozen, picturing exactly what would have happened. The fire, the people trapped inside, those sick bastards watching as the place burned down around the family. He felt like he could throw up though it probably wouldn't be such a good idea with a temperamental bitchy werewolf and a nearly psychotic librarian who would probably eat him for damaging any surfaces in the library by decorating it with his lunch.

The article said Derek and his sister had been at school when it happened and they had come home to ruins. Only one family member survived, an uncle. But Erica said that even he was dead now, so badly burnt that he was unrecognisable.

Stiles felt that instinctual tingle that travelled down his lower back whenever someone went into graphic detail of something very painful but he already had decided what to do, reading for the location of the house. They hadn't yet demolished it. And it wasn't too far away either. He pulled out his phone and texted Allison to ask her. She was reluctant but eventually agreed to drive him there. He then texted Derek telling him that he was going to visit Scott after school and that Allison would take him there but he wouldn't be gone very long.

Derek replied tersely, no freaking surprises there, warning him to be careful. God he was like a broken record or like that one friend who'd get obsessed with a song and then proceed to play it fifty billion times until it was imprinted on to your brain.

He tried not to scowl at the thought because he was having a major emotional perspective shift when it came to Derek these days, especially after Lydia and Allison's lovely pep talk.

"You're going there aren't you?" Erica guessed when he quit out of the browser and gave her back her laptop.

His fingers shook a little as she watched him but otherwise he pulled off the poker face. "You look like someone jabbed you in the kidneys," she noted. "And don't even bother trying to lie. I know you're going."

Stiles scowled wishing for once that he possessed Derek's unflappable android qualities which shielded him from such werewolf scrutiny. Erica rolled her eyes at him.

"Don't do anything stupid," she barked leaving the library quicker than he could react to the fact that maybe she wasn't a total uber werewolf bitch after all. Either he was losing his edge or his first impressions of people really sucked. He should work on that when he got the chance.

But for now, he was going to the Hale house.

And even he didn't try to delude himself into thinking it wasn't the stupidest idea in the existence of stupidity, like Cro-Magnon stupid, in fact stupider than before the dinosaurs stupid. But he was Stiles Stilinski so that meant he was going to do it anyway.

* * *

"This is a bad idea Stiles," Allison said from the driver's seat of her car as she responsibly drove him to what was undoubtedly about to become certain doom. It was nice of her to take him there though, his incessant begging had worn her down. She was almost as soft as Scott.

They took a really creepy road into Beacon Hills Reserve following it for a couple tense minutes until the house came into view. He'd been expecting the sight, there'd been a pretty graphic picture of the aftermath in the article but it still sent an uncomfortable twinge in his gut. Allison was watching the house with wide eyes.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" she asked looking mightily anxious.

He really hoped she didn't have the urge to pull out her bow and shoot a fluffy rabbit or something to squash her nerves so he shook his head, clambering out of her car. "Nah, I prefer to do my sleuthing solo but thanks for the ride. And I'll tell Scott your message," he promised.

She hesitated. "Stiles, there's a rogue…"

"It's alright," he said. "I'm wearing my rogue werewolf proof jacket."

It had sort of been an unspoken agreement for them that morning. He'd put on Derek's jacket without even being asked. But he knew it had pleased the alpha and maybe sometimes he sort of wanted to make Derek happy.

But he would never admit that in a million freaking years.

"Don't worry," he grinned. "I'm alpha property."

She managed a weak smile and he took off walking towards the house before he could change his mind. Allison didn't leave until he'd made it onto the blackened porch. He dialled Scott as soon as her car disappeared.

"Stiles?" Scott answered sounding a little breathless which was pretty obvious because they both knew exactly what he was doing.

Um. Awkward supremely awkward but Scott would have to deal.

"Allison said same place same time, if you can make it," he said having no idea what that could possibly mean but really not caring a whole hell of a lot anyway. "And I was just wondering if maybe you could cut out the Scotty fun time for a bit of snooping at the burned down Hale house."

Scott spluttered for a bit before he gained the power of words. "Stiles, I'm in heat dude I can't hang out with you and are you talking about that house that burned down ages ago? It was Derek's?"

He nodded staring at the dilapidated remains before him. "Yeah it's his and that was his entire family that burned down with it. C'mon man, you're obviously not gay for me so you could spare a couple of minutes to help me out."

Scott laughed nervously. "If mom let me out you know I'd just go straight for…"

"Allison. I know. But c'mon man, don't be such a werewuss. This could be fun."

He knew he was fighting a losing battle but it was nice to talk to Scott all the same. School without him was not particularly enjoyable even by Stiles' standards.

"Sorry man. Next time?" he said. "Are you out there by yourself? What about the rogue?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "I'm wearing Derek's jacket. Alpha protective shield is up, promise."

Scott sighed. "Why do I get the feeling you're about to do something stupid?"

"Because you know me well and I am," he agreed. "Alright, try not to hump too many miscellaneous items, there Scott don't want your mom to have to replace the washing machine again."

"Shut up man! That was one time…"

But Stiles was already hanging up and didn't have to be in the McCall's basement to know that Scott was blushing. And seeing as Scott was in the middle of his heat and his girlfriend wasn't actually allowed to be his girlfriend in public or her parents would kill him he clearly had some things to do. To himself.

Ugh. It was like thinking about it was giving him Scott cooties.

Stiles winced and forever and ever refused to consider picturing Scott's happy time with himself ever again. He wasn't sure if he could survive the thought.

But now that he'd exhausted his options friendship wise for a Batman and Robin team up and it was clear that he was going solo in this endeavour he was able to stare down the very fucked up looking door and feel his heart beating steadily in his chest. Maybe it was because this was about Derek that he felt so calm about the whole thing. It was kind of strange like there was nothing in the house to be afraid of even though it looked like something out of a freaking horror film.

He opened the front door without any hesitation not sure really what he was looking for in the abandoned ruins of a burnt down house but he was about to find out. A distant howl travelled through the woods and his head whipped around cautiously worrying it was his alpha or the rogue werewolf, or knowing his luck, both.

He swore and darted into the house before he could find out.

It was a complete mess.

The house was basically condemned as the renovation from hell and looked like fight club had taken place there for several years afterwards though clearly no one had talked about it. He drifted from room to room unable to resist the need to explore every inch of the house that Derek had grown up in as a child. There was a strange sense of connection that he felt as his fingers brushed the walls, footfalls silent as he trudged through the leftover debris.

But he was a little disappointed when the house didn't make him immediately understand everything about Derek. And he found nothing that had made the trip out there worth it. It was actually one hell of a buzzkill and extremely depressing once he considered that people had died horrible deaths where he was standing.

"What are you doing here?"

Stiles nearly tripped down the stairs he was standing on having not noticed the very alpha looking presence standing in the opened doorway.

"Derek," he spoke quickly because he was pretty freaking sure he wasn't going to be among the living for much longer. How did Derek figure out what was going on so fast? Erica must have gone running to him as soon as he'd left her. Fuck. She was a damn alpha groupie after all. But one look at Derek's face told him this was so much bigger than him sneaking behind his back.

Uh-oh.

There was a rock solid tension in his stance and Stiles hadn't seen him look so wary since the first time they'd met. His expression was hard, guarded and suddenly Stiles felt like he'd destroyed whatever understanding they'd come to the night before.

Which meant he'd earned a sore ass for entirely no reason.

"Look I know I shouldn't have lied to you but I was curious and I just- I wanted to know more about what happened here."

Derek's face was blank, closed off and he realised why he was feeling so freaking out of place. It was because Derek was just looking at him without saying a word, without touching him without doing anything and it was seriously messing with his mind. The look on his face was intense and it made Stiles feel like he'd been caught drinking the blood of small children or dancing on an Indian burial ground.

And it was worse when he finally broke eye contact, the alpha storming out of the Hale house with a finality that did not bode well for either of them. The sudden emptiness of the silence pressed down on Stiles like the fire that had destroyed Derek's life so many years ago.

Derek didn't ask him to follow but it was exactly that reason why Stiles did, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to catch up with the alpha because there was no way in hell he was going to leave it like this. Or that he wanted to walk back to Derek's house through the woods.

But God, the way he'd _looked _at him. Stiles couldn't even describe the emotions coursing through him because his Lydia induced epiphany had led him to the understanding that he actually happened to like Derek. A lot.

And he didn't like the idea that it had taken under an hour for him to mess it up. He climbed into the passenger side and Derek hadn't driven off without him so he figured that was a good sign. He wasn't used to this feeling, normally he was the one being screwed over. It was rarely the other way around- he wasn't that lucky.

But now… Was Derek going to say anything?

"I'm taking your silence as you ignoring me," he said. "Are you going to say anything or should I just expect deathlike noiselessness for the rest of the drive?"

Derek didn't say anything, didn't even react to the sound of his voice and Stiles didn't want to admit just how much that scared the hell out of him. Was the alpha going into shock or something? Or was he just that furious that he couldn't even think of words to properly summarise the psychotic rage occurring within his own body? The silence was something that Stiles for once had no freaking clue how to fill.

He didn't really want to apologise for being curious and it wasn't like he'd gone to burn down the house a second time, he hadn't even really touched anything or gotten near enough to break what was already broken.

He'd clearly just surprised the alpha with the way he become involved in anything remotely supernatural and dangerous and the Hale house seemed like a pretty freaking nasty combination of both.

If Derek wanted to talk, he'd talk. There was no point forcing it out of him. He was a cactus after all, better let him bake in the sun while he figured his shit out. Plus he had not offered his forgiveness for the ass biting yet and the alpha hadn't offered an apology either. They were kind of in the middle of one of those Mexican standoffs before the pistols were drawn and the shootout started.

Stiles didn't want to be too quick to draw all of his weapons until he was certain there were no other options available. They made it back to Derek's den of dastardly deeds in record and no doubt illegal speed limit breaking time and the silence just sat there heavily between them when Derek switched off the engine.

He really had no idea what to say though he knew of everything inappropriate that he could mention instead. But that really wasn't going to help them. And he also had this feeling that begging Derek on his knees to forgive him and start speaking those short and insulting sentences he usually directed his way might make him seem a little pathetic.

So he settled for uncomfortable silences instead which he was in fact very used to experiencing as they mostly followed the words that came out of his mouth when he spoke.

The alpha made his way inside and Stiles followed him meekly in an please don't eat me because I didn't satisfy you sexually yesterday and I broke into your house today and I'm probably going to break into the Sheriff's department tomorrow to look up your file so I can use this information to figure you the hell out.

He wondered if Derek would appreciate him baring his neck as like an alpha tasty treat offering but he still hadn't even looked at him, Stiles may as well have been invisible. And that was so not the desired outcome of his efforts today.

He dropped his backpack onto the kitchen table knowing he should take it up to his and Derek' room but he didn't think he could handle all of the terrifying but highly arousing memories from yesterday. And he figured it would be best not to torture himself with imaginings seeing as he wasn't going to be getting anything from Derek ever again.

It was like it had hit midnight, the spell had broken and he was back to being a fucking pumpkin again.

Well obviously he was going to have to deal with that or at least yell at Derek enough so that he would deal with it instead.

But then the alpha was dumping his keys on the counter and going towards the front door. He didn't speak, didn't even look back as he walked out of it, leaving Stiles alone in the big empty house and feeling pretty freaking rejected. Considering how Derek seemed to be using every opportunity to kiss, touch, bite and basically render him stupid it was a pretty drastic change.

And his reaction made it very clear just how much he didn't trust Stiles. And weren't werewolf relationships meant to be built on trust and heavy layers of bestiality?

A can of beans was more likely to open _without _the can opener than Derek was about to open up about his feelings.

So Stiles didn't stand there missing Derek's booty for too long. He tapped out an impatient beat for a minute expecting the alpha's return and a thorough sexual encounter but when that clearly wasn't going to be an option he moved onto plan B.

He started searching through the house for anything interesting working his way up to the garage that Derek had neglected to show him which therefore made it to be the place where Stiles would reach alpha enlightenment.

It was a pretty unrevealing task. He didn't find anything too interesting on his way there, Derek's house was pretty bare, lifeless and screaming of practicality. It didn't feel much like a home, only the presence of the alpha's clothes had him truly believing it. The only remotely noteworthy thing had been the random stash of wolfsbane paraphernalia hidden in a trunk in the guest room. There was bunches and bunches of the plant with most of it in powder form or laced in bullets.

He didn't figure Derek for the sadistic or self-harming type so he assumed having it in his possession was some kind of a strategic move though for what he really couldn't guess. Stiles couldn't find the need to remove Derek's jacket as he worked either. It was like he'd become too attached to his position in said biker, leather wearing werewolf gang and he couldn't actually find a reasonable argument that ended with him removing it.

So he kept it on as he riffled through stuff trying to ignore the distinctive smell of alpha or the wrenching feeling it was procuring in his broken teenage soul when he thought about him. He felt the need to turn on sad music and dwell in the angst that was his existence.

But then the doorbell rang after he'd exited yet another pointless room, unsatisfied and he froze thinking for a second that he'd been caught. Then he realised Derek wouldn't have bothered with the doorbell or even freaking knocking because it was his damn house and Stiles was just paranoid.

Although paranoid seemed a lot better than oblivious when he walked to the door, instincts briefly warning against answering the call as he swung it open revealing Chris Argent, Allison's badass werewolf hunting daddy. Oh that was exactly what he needed right now. The rogue werewolf hunter's smile widened in that cat that caught the canary grin that he liked to blind people with because he possessed a really spectacular set of teeth. Stiles barely recovered his shock before he'd realised that Allison's dad had already invited himself inside.

"Is this because of that lift I got off Allison today?" he asked feeling nervous particularly because he had no way to kick out badass werewolf hunters from Derek's house if say they invited themselves in or overstayed their welcome. "Because that was totally Matt's fault," Stiles said knowing how obvious the lie was but the dude seriously deserved the blame for reasons unknown as yet. There was something about that kid's face that he just didn't like.

"Where's your alpha?" Mr Argent asked glancing about the house. "I have a couple questions about this rogue."

Stile groaned flailing his limbs a little to get his point across. "He's not here and you can tell the rest of your little rogue werewolf hunter buddies that it's not him killing those girls."

"Why don't you let the professionals decide that Mr Stilinski," he said inspecting the house with hawk eyes that clearly missed nothing.

Stiles tried not to get too worked up over it because he was already pretty damn stressed. He ran his hands across his spiked hair in frustration. Why did the Argent's feel the need to ignore him? "I've seen it," he said. "And it's not Derek."

Mr Argent finally stopped his snooping around the house seemingly satisfied that his initial survey didn't reveal the rogue was hiding under their couch or something. "Did you see them both together?"

"Uh that depends on how you define together? If you mean seconds after the rogue took off into the forest and then Derek showed up in his car than yes."

Mr Argent smiled again, revealing his too perfect teeth and a predatory grin. "I'm afraid that's not enough solid evidence to let your alpha off the hook. When he comes back, you let him know we'll be watching him."

And the hunter walked easily out the door as if Stiles had invited him to a tea party and he'd politely declined because he wasn't wearing his tea party dress. He just stared after the werewolf killer feeling like everything in his life just had to be too freaking complicated or the universe would surely implode.

He normally would have spent a bit of time freaking out about what had just happened but he was already back to his plan of discovering more about a very secretive and mysterious alpha by invading his privacy instead because it was a more productive way to waste his time.

But he was interrupted when somebody knocked at the door _again _before he could get to his destination. He let out a frustrated groan and turned around hurrying back to the door, worrying it would be Mr Argent or Derek or that it would be Derek and Mr Argent in the middle of an all out werewolf/hunter hoe down_._

It wasn't either.

In fact it was Boyd. From school. Werewolf Boyd. Who he'd probably spoken to all of once in his life.

"What are you doing here?" Stiles demanded using his usual charm. Well, spoken to twice now. That was enough social interaction for one day.

Boyd just pushed his way past Stiles and into the house. "I'm here to back the alpha."

Stiles went to close the door but Isaac was suddenly in the doorway as well. What the hell was this? He did not organise a werewolf party in the alpha's absence. And they didn't look like they planned on leaving either. And what was freakier was that they didn't look too werewolf heat crazed either. Maybe it hadn't hit them yet. He freaking hoped he was millenniums away from them both when it did.

"Me too," Isaac agreed. "The Argent's have gone too far."

Stiles shut the door quickly wondering briefly if that was stupid because then he was trapping himself with two werewolves who could possibly be in heat. And they might be trying to kill him any second now. "What do you mean? What's going on?"

Isaac just moved into the lounge room switching on the television as if that was an explanation. Stiles followed him slightly concerned that both Isaac and Boyd seemed to know their way around Derek's house which clearly meant they'd been there before. Only that didn't make sense because Derek had only just returned to Beacon Hills and whenever Stiles wasn't at school he was here and he'd never seen any other werewolves running around the empty house. Although it was pretty big, it could have slipped his notice when Derek was trying to jump his bones.

A lot of things tended to slip his notice when that happened.

He sank onto the couch trying to ignore the weird level of werewolf testosterone present in the room as he watched what appeared to be an announcement on Beacon Hills only news channel. "The hunt for the rogue werewolf has taken a new direction today," a pretty brunette declared. "With startling evidence coming to light incriminating Alpha Hale…"

"WHAT?" he demanded hearing his voice croak over the word. They had to be fucking with them. Jesus the media really knew how to turn the knife. What happened to the fesitival and freaking celebrations welcoming him back to town? He wouldn't be surprised if they were already sharpening their pitchforks. No wonder Derek seemed so more broody than usual.

Isaac waved him into silence with a hand not looking away from the screen. "Sources say the Alpha is under investigation for his involvement in the deaths of Deborah West and reporter Amy Baker who were brutally murdered as a result of werewolf heat week…"

So the other woman had been a reporter? Stiles tensed and the mention of them both, memories overloading his already faulty brain. What had she been doing in the woods? Had she been looking for a story? "When asked about the status of the hunt Gerard Argent had this to say"

The image changed and suddenly their principal was smiling at them on the television. Stiles had already moved towards the tv switching it off before the psycho could speak, he did not want to hear a word out of his mouth especially if he was him pointing the finger at Derek.

"So what? That's why you're both here? To start an animal rights club?"

Boyd growled and Isaac snorted at him.

Stiles folded his arms and tried not to think how very not smart it would be to rile these short fuse werewolves by insulting them especially when they should be locked away somewhere taking care of their werewolf heat business. He really was turning as brainless as Scott. Is this what was expected to happen when you had the feelings? Stiles disdained for the intelligence of humanity if this was how stupid feelings made you, transforming you into someone possessing a brain of mush with fully functioning reproductive organs with no concerns about continuing the human race.

Although if they were going to run around brainless maybe humans were better off extinct. Just saying.

"We're here to watch the alpha's back," Boyd growled. "Don't think we didn't notice the smell of hunter in here."

And he could hear the accusation in the beta's words. Well if that wasn't another reason for Stiles to kick them the hell out he didn't know what was. Oh right. It was heat week , they were on Derek's territory and the alpha wasn't even present. Conclusion: time to put the dogs in the kennel. For a moment he even wanted to punch one of them or maybe seriously consider werewolf neutering if that's what they thought about him.

Did he seriously give off the working both sides of the battle line vibe? Didn't they know that he had the Dereky feelings?

"I can't help it if a hunter walks into the house uninvited," Stiles said scowling. "Though there's a lot of that happening tonight. And if you'd bothered asking first I would have told you Derek's not here."

"We know," Isaac replied stretching out his tall frame as he spread out on the carpet. Stiles hoped he didn't feel the need to mark his territory, he didn't really want Derek ripping up all the carpet with his big alpha claws as soon as he got back. And speaking of the primary source of his problems, where the hell was he? Shouldn't have finished chasing all of the woodland creatures into their prospective burrows yet? What if he'd run into the rogue? Or the hunters?

Holy shit why hadn't he tried to stop him leaving?

"That's why we're here."

Stiles was dragged out of his internal misgivings by the very obvious fact that two very werewolfy teenagers were looking at him. 'What?"

"We're protecting you," Isaac volunteered when he was totally baffled by their attention. "From the hunters. Erica's outside patrolling the house."

Stiles figured he'd misheard. They were protecting him? From the hunters? But there was no way they'd hurt an innocent teenager, unless it was to lure an alpha into their midst.

Shit.

He walked to the front door leaving Boyd and Isaac alone in Derek's house feeling only marginally concerned that they would destroy it as he walked outside staring into the woods and squinting because he couldn't see the blonde anywhere. "Erica?" he called out. "No need for the prowling around seriously. We're good. Why don't you just come inside or something and I can cook you some uh- large chunks of meat. Or if you'd prefer you can eat it raw but that's clearly a personal choice."

Erica snorted appearing right beside him so abruptly that he made a strangled sound and jumped about a mile away from her and then she smirked.

"Holy Jesus," he gasped. "Aren't creatures that go bump in the night actually meant to go and bump or something?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're an idiot," Erica said. "And it's not even dark yet." But she still followed him back into the house so he took that as victory in the argument.

And that was about the time those werewolves needed to get the hell out or die, like pronto because if they stayed any longer Derek would surely destroy them.

"Okay seriously you guys, you can't protect me from your crazy werewolf ass selves if you're soon to become crazy ass werewolves. And I don't need protecting anyway I mean have you seen these muscles? I got this handled. You should all probably go and lock yourselves away in your basements now."

Erica laughed. "Oh baby, you haven't even seen crazy."

He didn't know if that meant she was offering but he was tempted to show off his very dangerous looking muscles which would certainly frighten them into leaving. Or he could just start swinging. That seemed like the better plan. "We're in control," Boyd muttered in his very good impersonation of Derek's Mr stoic, broody pants, cactus man impersonation. Soon he wouldn't be able to tell them apart except for obvious reasons.

"And what do you think Derek will be when he gets back and figures out you had a tag team werewolf invasion on the poor weak human in his territory?"

He hadn't pulled out the watch out for my big, tough, alpha boyfriend card before so it felt a little strange rolling off the tongue but then their expressions seemed to make the effort worth it.

Because apparently threatening three beta's with a scary as fuck alpha like Derek Hale- who kept a chest full of wolfsbane in his house for shits and giggles, wore hardcore man leather, drove dangerously sleek cars and basically had an orgasm inducing face with cheekbones that could cut glass and heated eyes that could literally peel away clothing in seconds through the sheer will of his scowl and raised eyebrows- was a serious fucking thing to do.

They didn't even try to argue with him, they just immediately walked to the door as if they'd realised how truly screwed they were when Derek came back and discovered they'd been here alone with Stiles who was trying not to seem too pleased that he'd sustained an actual threat without people laughing at him for once.

It was an interesting change, a nice rush of power that could easily go to his head but it did boost his mood a little considering he was in denial of Derek withdrawal if the way he kept mentioning the alpha whenever he spoke was anything to go by.

The feelings were just going to have to die because they were making him into someone that apparently liked the idea of pining. For Derek. He was now mentally unstable. Lydia was going to have to check him into an institution though not before he'd snuck into the Sheriff's department and looked at Derek's file. Maybe they'd let him take it with him as like a final token of his little alpha werewolf cactus problem.

But then said cactus man was unexpectedly slamming through the front door with a snarl of agonised fury as if Stiles had rang one of those novelty bells and called for him collapsing onto the floor like it was a normal thing to do.

The beta werewolves were already keening softly baring their necks in submission and trying to communicate with their eyes that they weren't in fact trying to jump Stiles' bones because Derek had left him alone and unprotected. But Stiles wasn't really looking at them. He was looking at his cactus boyfriend who was looking a lot more prickly than usual in a literal sense because he happened to have several arrows _sticking _out of him. Oh shit.

Wow and he'd just thought he'd gone out to chase rabbits in the woods and to generally explore his own werewolf angst. His eyes roamed over Derek's collapsed form critically as he noticed the darker contrasts of red staining his clothes which clearly meant he'd been shot.

The sickly paleness of his face made Stiles chest tighten.

"Boyd, Isaac," he said. "Hold him down."

They straightened out of their submissive poses looking extremely confused which was ridiculous because couldn't they smell the wolfsbane?

Holy God. He was dealing with pups here, seriously.

"Just hold him down okay. I'll be right back. Don't let him choke on his own vomit!"

He'd seen this a couple of times when his dad had to deal out some werewolf justice to protect people from danger. Hunters and the Sheriff's department used the same wolfsbane laced bullets. He raced back to the guest room suddenly seeing the practical qualities of Derek possessing it in his house as he ripped open the trunk and seized the box full of the werewolf kryptonite bullets.

His heart was racing as he grabbed a lighter and a pair of scissors from the kitchen before running back to the little sick game of werewolf doctor taking place in the foyer.

Derek looked half crazed and was snapping his jaws at his groupies trying valiantly to hold him still. Stiles thought he was too far gone to even recognise them, his wolf reacting to their presence. Boyd was attempting to pin his shoulders as Isaac and Erica seized his arms but the alpha continued to thrash and buck violently, eyes red and nearly rolling back into his head.

"Not like that, God," he snapped running forward and leaping onto the alpha landing on his thighs and using his own weight and hands to pin him down. Derek's wolf recognised Stiles but he howled when he accidentally stabbed him with the scissors. Oops.

"Crap," he said wincing as he jerked them out of Derek's flesh with a new appreciation for the no running and jumping on alpha's with scissors rule.

He cut open Derek's shirt frantically not even bothering to save the material as he ripped it off him exposing his chest.

"Start pulling out the arrows," he commanded around a bullet he'd shoved into his mouth using his teeth to snap it open. "Or he won't be able to heal." He piled the gunpowder wolfsbane onto the floor and lit it hoping to high hell that he remembered how to do it correctly because his dad had only shown him how to do it once.

It flared up and he knew that it had. He scooped it back into his hand ignoring Isaac, Boyd and Erica as they moved around him to pull the arrows out of Derek's flesh, he was already focused on the bullet wounds; two in one arm and one that had grazed just below the jut of his ribs.

Stiles didn't hesitate shoving the wolfsbane powder into the wounds of his arm, pinning it with his legs when Derek roared in agony and thrashed. He was quick about it working his way from the wounds in his arms to Derek's side but he knew that it fucking hurt and no matter how fast he went he wasn't going to stop howling until his alpha healing kicked in like pronto. But in between that was probably the worst moment of his life because holy Jesus the sounds Derek made as the wounds healed and the poison left his system was the thing of freaking nightmares.

The other werewolves had backed away several metres before Stiles had even realised they were gone, the werewusses. What kind of creatures of the night couldn't handle a seriously pissed off werewolf? Although Stiles had to admit he wanted to get as far away as he could but somehow in the scuffle Derek's claws had gripped his hips and held him in an immovable grip so that he was seriously trapped or pinned to a sexy alpha body depending on the glass half empty/ glass half full approach.

"Uh Derek," he said leaning forward to touch the alpha's face because he had to check that he wasn't passed out and the only way to do that was to thoroughly feel him up. "You alive in there?"

"No," Derek growled out curtly but his grip on Stiles' hips was bruising- and despite how much he was trying to distract himself- totally arousing like the full blown arousal with r's that rolled off the tongue. And he did not feel like getting hot and bothered in front of a serious groupie werewolf pack of potentially horny teenagers who would smell the party in his pants probably before he would be able to say awkward. And Derek was using sarcasm so that was potentially mind blowing in itself.

Stiles glanced at the rest of the groupies who were holding various snapped up arrows that they'd yanked from Derek's body. He didn't even want to start counting how many but he also didn't want to start cleaning body parts off the floor either so it was time for them to go. At least before Derek figured out that they were there. Maybe he could pass them off as a wolfsbane hallucination.

"So if this position wasn't enough of an indication that maybe you guys should be leaving I'm going to actually say it. So uh-very not nice to see you all, keep away from that rogue werewolf, don't kill too many fluffy bunnies and make sure you chain yourselves in your basement nice and tight for the rest of the weekend. And try not to kill anybody- to death. Buh bye now."

Erica rolled her eyes but pushed the other possibly shocked and/or traumatised werewolves out the door and then he was alone with a very sexy and pissed off alpha. Great. For a moment Derek's grip tightened even further jerking Stiles tighter against his body and his eyes widened at the contact but then the alpha was throwing him off so that he sprawled in a discoordinated mess of limbs across the floor. Ouch, so that meant he hadn't quite gotten over his little impromptu alpha investigation.

He scrambled back up again when Derek managed to get his big, stupid, alpha body up off the ground, a spectacular feat considering his stupid, fat, head was as inflated as a freaking blimp. The alpha walked away without saying anything because he was a Cro-Magnon cactus man incapable of displaying any kind of sentiment or his little android body would start malfunctioning.

The outrage that Derek had just dumped him like last week's trash and walked off without even thanking him for saving his ho,t werewolf ass was enough to make him angry brave. Or angry stupid.

"What no thank you?" he called after him. "I totally save your little werewolf ass and you're still not going to say anything, you damn sourwolf?"

Derek didn't even turn his head so Stiles let out a heated snarl of frustration and threw the scissors at him.

It was a pretty good shot actually and he figured if Coach Finstock had seen it he might reconsider banishing him to bench duty every single game. But the alpha snatched them out of the air like it was nothing and kept walking. Stiles just gaped at him feeling completely cheated by his faster reflexes. Derek wasn't going to hold a grudge forever was he? So he went prying into some painful memories it's not like he'd gone and set the hunters on Derek. He was Stiles Stilinski and he was known for pushing people's buttons and for being where he shouldn't. In fact it was expected of him.

Which was why he decided, screw it he was going to search the garage even with the alpha in the house. He was so pissed that he didn't even give a damn about what Derek would do, anything would be better than the asswipe ignoring him.

So he went into the garage. He didn't bother with the whole slow motion turning of the door knob and the even slower opening of the door. He had a feeling it was going to creak and doing anything slowly seemed like he was trying to turn the situation into something that required suspenseful music and a dude who could seriously chainsaw massacre lurking in the corner.

And that was why he yanked open the door hard and fast, feeling for the light switch with a hand as he teetered on the edge of the doorway, half in the darkness. There was no way he was just going to waltz straight into the room without at least checking nobody with a chainsaw was in there first. It was just a self preservation thing. There could be hunters hiding in there for all he knew.

The light flickered on finally and he was suddenly looking at row upon row of cars. His jaw dropped. There had to be at least fifteen or so all lined up and costing so much more than his own organs could sell on the black market. Why did Derek have so many cars? Wasn't he normally running around the woods on foot? He was tempted to look inside them all but they didn't seem like they would reveal anything too exciting except for the fact that Derek was clearly rolling in cash but then the size of his mansion house had already given that secret away.

He twisted round locating a work bench running along the wall and it drew him forward. Stiles couldn't help being curious about it because there was the possibility that he was going to find out more about the asshole causing him mental anguish. And considering how deeply he'd clammed up over just a little snooping, Derek clearly had things to hide.

Stiles always liked a challenge.

He rifled through the mess of random tools and weapons that he really couldn't figure out what the hell they were used for but apart from that there hadn't been that much information just lying around like he'd hoped. He'd been standing there holding some sort of hook thing, inspecting it for a few good minutes as he tried to figure out if it was used for lobotomy or as some kind of seriously deadly backscratcher when a scrap of paper caught his eye.

He dropped the evident murder weapon he was handling back onto the bench and hastily climbed over the pile of other death traps to reach it, fingers closing over the delicate paper as he gently pulled it free.

It was a photo.

He managed to extract it from the mess to look at it more closely. It was of Derek but he was younger with his arms around a woman and he was smiling. And the way he was smiling sort of made Stiles want to die because he hadn't known it was possible for Derek to look more attractive than he already did with his brooding scowl.

But this smile. Damn. It totally transformed his features so that he was looking at a new person, an entirely new person. Was this what he'd been like in the past? No he couldn't imagine that, Derek would have probably been a man of few words even before he'd lost his entire family. That quality was too deeply ingrained in his personality. He took in the woman beside him with her arm wrapped around the alpha's waist and felt a twinge of something flash through him because suddenly he wanted to be in that picture holding the smiling Derek.

He wanted to be in that picture very much.

It was almost unfair that this past Derek didn't exist anymore. Stiles felt just a little screwed over by that fact because smiling Derek would definitely have thanked him for saving his werewolf ass. And smiling Derek probably wouldn't be ignoring him.

He placed the photo back in its place absentmindedly scratching at his scarred face which was slowly healing at a snail pace human rate before rearranging a couple of items so the photo wouldn't get damaged. He didn't want to think about the girl next to him or the fact that they both seemed so close. Or that she was the reason Derek was smiling.

Nope he didn't want to think about that at all.

So he walked away resolving to take this amateur investigation to a higher degree. A higher degree being the Sheriff's department as soon as he could figure out how to get there. Because trying to stop a Stilinski from finding something out was as much of an invitation to keep searching as running from a scary alpha was an invitation for werewolf sexy times. And Stiles had no intention of stopping.

Derek could withhold his fine werewolf ass indefinitely for all he cared but he was going to find out everthing he could about the alpha.

And his secrets.


	7. Nee

In case nobody had noticed each chapter is no in a different language. This chapter is the Dutch equivalent of no, just a fun and useless fact to bore you with :D

Enjoy!

* * *

**Nee.**

When you've pissed off an alpha there's a definite expectation that dinner would be an awkward- stabbing a fork in your face- kind of affair. And Stiles was not disappointed. Derek didn't say anything as he cooked yet another mouth-watering food concoction that made Stiles want to worship at his feet when he handed it over without even glancing at him.

Maybe it was a must-provide-for-boy-you-intend-to-screw-senseless thing either way he wasn't complaining. Although he wasn't sure what he missed more Derek's short words or the way it felt when the alpha looked at him like he was going to do something unbelievably sexual, hell even the touching. He was having major Derek withdrawal and he really didn't like being deprived of any of it but the alpha was evidently backing off for reasons unknown.

Okay, maybe Stiles knew these reasons but it was easier to play the victim than the person at fault. So he just ate the food without commenting on the fact that Derek hadn't actually poisoned it for which he was pretty damn grateful.

Derek went and sat in front of the television and he followed because the more Derek made it clear he didn't want anything to do with him the more Stiles wanted to. Do with him, in reverse psychological ways. It seemed to be working on him like a charm and a small part of him was suspicious this was Derek's entire plan which he'd masterminded from the very beginning.

But then he saw the alpha's you're dead to me expression as he ignored him and figured he was just incredibly pissed. Like I will murder you at the next available opportunity pissed. Well then.

And guilt didn't seem to starve his own appetite either because he shovelled down the food like a machine glancing every so often out of the corner of his eye at Derek who continued to pretend he did not exist. He really wasn't sure if that was insulting or just plain freaking ridiculous.

Stiles wasn't exactly unfamiliar with this treatment but he couldn't say that he enjoyed it especially when he knew Derek was making himself all prickly to keep him away because he clearly couldn't handle anybody taking any interest in him. God forbid anyone actually wanting to get to know him. And that just seemed like a lot of counterproductive, running in circles mind fuckery.

It seemed very ironic considering Derek had taken nothing but an interest in Stiles since he'd arrived on the I-challenge-werewolves-because-I'm-hardcore scene. And he'd be damned if he let him take away the alpha attention. So he put his empty plate onto the table when he'd practically licked it clean and then decided screw it, he was going to talk anyway.

"So we're not talking about the hunters who are trying to kill you," he said figuring that would be the best conversation starter. Derek made no indication that he'd heard him but Stiles knew that he was listening. "And the little pack of werewolves running around and doing your bidding because they've and I quote 'Got your back'. And also not talking about the rogue werewolf running around in the woods that no one's going to catch because they think you're it, buddy. No clearly not talking about that."

Derek only turned up the volume. Stiles choked out a laugh. "Oh my God. You're actually really serious about this aren't you? What are you going to do never speak again? Totally ignore me because I went to your house? Not even thank me for patching you up just now, you know when you were like practically dying?"

The muscles in the alpha's jaw twitched as he clamped his teeth together. Stiles was surprised he didn't start grinding them. And all because he couldn't let people past his prickly iron curtain of doom that shielded him emotionally from everyone else because of his serious trust issues.

"I am like the worst person in the world to ignore, you know," he continued in a conversational tone though he was clearly performing a monologue. "Because I can just keep talking about nothing for hours and hours and I have Adderall to sustain my conversation so your little cranky alpha silent treatment argument is invalid."

Derek looked like he was about to turn up the sound again in an attempt to block him out but Stiles wasn't going to let him get away with that again and he reached over and snatched the remote out of his grip. Who said he didn't have cat like reflexes when he needed to piss off people who could kill him without blinking?

He switched off the television feeling an immense sense of satisfaction when Derek inclined his head slightly in his direction which clearly meant that he was declaring his deep and passionate love by paying attention to him again, acknowledging his existence and not just stretching his neck. Well he could have been stretching his neck, whatever.

It was an improvement and Stiles would take what he could get.

"We're going to sit here until you get past your werewolf issues and open that talented mouth of yours."

And then suddenly he was very aware of what said mouth could do as he was a hormonal teenager and Derek had been withholding his sex God body for too long. And he had impulse issues and bad sense of timing. And did he mention that he was a hormonal teenager? A hormonal teenage _boy?_

He was suddenly picturing exactly what else they could be doing instead of the not talking thing and his body started to react in interest of the sexy time potential. Derek's expression of blank disinterest changed briefly as he shuddered, shutting his eyes as if to block out his senses which were basically flashing neon signs of Stiles I want you baby, take me now bodily reaction.

And Stiles suddenly realised exactly how he was going to get Derek to open his mouth and it didn't involve talking about the feelings, no sir, it did not. He got up but Derek made no sign that he'd noticed and Stiles walked over to him, heart suddenly in his mouth.

He looked down at the alpha at his closed eyes and suddenly very much wanted to do all sorts of arousing things to him. His hands came down on Derek's shoulders and he climbed onto the alpha's lap, straddling him in a very suggestive manner.

Derek's eyes flew open and suddenly Stiles had gotten his full attention. He liked the warmth his body offered and he was a little unsure of Derek's injuries although they'd healed but he knew that no matter what he was going to win this argument.

At any cost.

"I'm sorry," he murmured licking his lips when Derek's heated gaze rested on him. "Well I'm not sorry really. Actually I'm just sorry about getting caught. And that wanting to know more about you made you angry," he said watching as his expression tightened. "-er. Angrier because let's face it you've already got plenty of angry already going on all up in there."

Derek just continued to stare at him so Stiles inclined his head. "So uh this is me. Offering my throat to the wolf with the red roses but uh- if you could possibly start talking now that'd be just great."

The alpha let out a soft growl as he tried to resist what Stiles now knew to be his true kryptonite, his neck. He leaned closer to him just because he didn't want Derek fighting it anymore and maybe he didn't want to fight it anymore either.

Plus he did sort of miss the sensation. It was indescribably hot and always making his pants tight and his heart race. In fact just waiting for it was getting him excited. He ran his tongue along his lips again and Derek's hands came onto his hips as if he hadn't even thought about doing it.

Progress.

And then with a wild snarl his mouth came down over his neck. Stiles groaned into it, pushing his hips closer and wanting so much more than Derek was willing to give him. But then again Derek had opened his mouth even if it was to mark his neck and Stiles assumed that meant he had won him over. Sort of. He was taking any sort of technicality he could get. He shook under the attention gripping Derek's body tightly as the alpha just went to town on his throat, marking him all over and getting him incredibly hot and bothered.

The alpha pulled away from him briefly but Stiles wasn't going to let him get away with anything but a satisfying make out session. So he caught his face before he could push him off, slamming his mouth onto Derek's, seizing the back of his hair and holding on for dear life.

His heart was thundering in his chest but he nearly wept with relief when Derek didn't pull away opening his own mouth to make the kiss deeper. Stiles' hands were everywhere, touching every inch of the alpha he could reach, a sudden frenzy taking over him as his fingers slid across Derek's skin.

And Derek seemed to really enjoy what he was doing if the way he pushed his hips up into Stiles was any indication. And then they were literally just rutting against each other, the smooth tangle of limbs making it hard to breathe and the way they just connected like nothing in the world was more important than this. The touch raised his pulse like nothing had ever done before.

He burned for Derek, for the way they felt against each other and how impossible it was than he could feel this way. And the unbelievable fact that it was the alpha who brought him to this state.

Derek abruptly pushed Stiles away giving him the opportunity to drag some of that lovely oxygen back into his lungs. He gasped running his tongue over his swollen lips and struggling not to squirm in Derek's lap and start that lovely friction all over again. God that was incredibly okay with him. They should do that like all the time, forever and ever hallelujah amen.

"I see manipulation isn't beneath you either," the alpha said, eyes narrowing.

Stiles was unjustifiably outraged. "How else was I supposed to get your attention? You were acting like I'd died and started haunting your werewolf ass."

The alpha stared at him, the sudden amount of eye contact after ignoring him for the entire night unsettling and making him squirm a little under the gaze. He raised his chin despite the urge to duck his head in a meagre attempt at submission and compliance because he'd be dead before he decided to act in a way that didn't endanger his life on a daily basis.

Derek growled softly and separated their bodies, Stiles groaning at the unnecessary crotch contact as he watched the muscles of Derek's arms tighten and make him want to jump him all over again as he lifted him. He placed Stiles next to him on the couch keeping a strictly PG level of distance between them when all he really wanted to do was get naked.

Was that so much to ask?

He made an agonised sound as his ass was jostled by the movement, pain suddenly inflaming his right ass cheek. Derek was on him like a desperate housewife on the hot pool boy/gardener/maintenance man/ paper boy- seriously ladies? lifting him into the air and slinging him over his shoulder again so he could carry him up the stairs.

Stiles excited lower regions did not rejoice at the uncomfortable press of Derek's rock hard body, crushing against him and making the thought of creating offspring very unlikely with him literally squashing any hope for a good sperm count. He didn't really protest because Derek held him gently, hands not going anywhere near his sensitive ass which meant he'd figured out what the major malfunction was.

The son of a bitch, Stiles hoped the bastard realised exactly who the painful ass sensation was caused by and then hoped with the fire of a thousand burning suns that he could return the favour.

And seeing as he'd been thinking about revenge all day there were a lot of satisfying ideas running around in his head that he wouldn't hesitate to put into action. Even if Derek was being extremely careful of where exactly to touch so that he wouldn't irritate it further.

Good for him. But that didn't mean Stiles was all forgiveness. Maybe after a good blowjob and a small flicker of guilt in the alpha's gaze he'd be quicker to forgive. Or maybe several blow jobs and Derek telling him just how amazingly attractive and intelligent and awesome he was and a promise to never attempt to destroy him with the werewolf sex would do the trick.

The alpha put him onto the bed softly, lying him on his stomach as he lifted his hips up to remove his shirt, divesting him of his pants and being goddamn quick about it without offending the sensitive area of his ass.

Stiles was abruptly distracted by the very detached way Derek was behaving as he moved about the bed. Or maybe now he was finally noticing how much of himself that the alpha was always holding back, keeping hidden and locked away. It was pretty freaking annoying now that he knew it was there. Or wasn't there for a better word.

He could feel that wall between them and a very selfish part of him wanted to slash at it with his nails, scratching and ripping until it was torn away. He wanted to smash through it with his bare fists, light it on fire with a bottle of kerosene and destroy it so completely that no one would ever know it existed.

Everything Derek was doing, every single thing was based purely on instinct, not emotion. He was all anger and rage and desire but that was all it was and it always had something to do with the instincts of his wolf. He may as well have been an empty shell.

The idea that Stiles was never going to see anything more than that made him angry. Very angry. In fact, he was so freaking angry that in that moment he was willing to put his own release and the satisfaction of a really good Stiles fondling and groping session in jeopardy.

The alpha had removed his underwear, exposing the sensitive flesh to the soothing coldness of the fresh air. He didn't need to look over his shoulder to know his ass was a lovely collection of purple, green and red blotches of bruised and tender discoloration to the usual- I'm allergic to sun- ass paleness. And he didn't need the slightest hitch in Derek's breath as he'd realised how much of a fucking prick he was for doing it to him.

The last thing he wanted from the alpha was pity.

Derek's fingers slid across the flesh flooding heat through the caress and making him want to move away because it felt too damn good and he felt too damn angry. And Derek was still a stupid, alpha jerk with a stupidly, hot, alpha body and a stupid voice that was hot enough to make him oh so wet if he ever felt the need to whisper dirty little things in his ear.

Stupid alpha. Goddamn he was so freaking pissed right now. How could Derek treat him like shit and then do this to him whilst holding what he wanted back? Because God, he wanted the idiot to feel. He wanted it more than anything he'd wanted in his life and that was absolutely freaking insane.

His obsession with Lydia couldn't hold a candle to the all-consuming ache that surrounded Derek Hale. What kind of asshole could keep himself so shut off all the freaking time? He wanted to hit him, punch him in the face, bite him until he bled, tear at his flesh until there was nothing left but that hidden part of him. He wanted him to feel every part of it.

But then Derek's touch slid across his skin pulling him out of his own head.

"I shouldn't have to go out searching for information about you," he spat feeling the angry tension leave his tone as Derek's mouth kissed across the tender area and his hands cupped his flesh delicately. What was this? Bestow your love and adoration on the ass of Stiles Stilinski day? "You should just get over your damn problems and-"

Derek growled in a dangerously arousing way, the sexual need clear in the back of his throat as the sound escaped him and Stiles froze, very concerned with where this was going. His heart raced and he wondered if jumping Derek on the couch earlier had been another type of invitation.

Must have been because he'd been thinking that the alpha was going to soothe his ass not rip it apart with his gigantic, alpha cock. He tried to scramble away but the alpha held him down and all that seemed to accomplish was an insanely good amount of pressure as he basically humped the bed trying to escape.

He groaned needily as Derek's mouth came over his ass, hands seizing his hips and forcing him deeper into the mattress as he licked all over the bruised and injured area. He huffed out a gasping breath against the pillow as he jerked shallowly against the bed knowing it was stupid of him to do so but he was too consumed with his own lust to stop.

Derek held him back as if he knew what he was trying to do and didn't want to let him reach the edge, pulling him back in a tortuous way, preventing Stiles from coming apart. He scowled breathlessly trying to push back, to fight the alpha's pace as Derek licked along the cleft of his ass. He was not going to let the alpha get away with cockblocking him.

Stiles stilled when Derek pulled his cheeks apart, face heating up at the very exposed position, his entrance in full view of a no doubt extremely horny alpha. He was too tense to react feeling the heady atmosphere around them as he lay there helplessly at Derek's mercy, always at Derek's mercy. His heart thundered in his chest and he was amazed that he wasn't hyperventilating.

But if Derek continued to be so unpredictable he would probably start pretty damn soon. The alpha made a soft calming noise in the back of his throat as if he was worried Stiles racing heart was about to go into cardiac arrest. He could make no promises.

Derek absolutely terrified him like this and he squirmed as he began sweating profusely. The grip on his hips remained clawless but that didn't make him any less disturbed. In fact it was probably worse. At least he knew what wolf Derek wanted. Normal Derek on the other hand…

Derek snarled wildly the sound making him flinch before he yanked Stiles ass closer toward him, pulling apart his cheeks more roughly. Stiles cried out in surprise, trying to fight it as terror overtook the arousal fluttering through him and choking up any screams he may or may not have been tempted to squeal out like a little girl.

So now he really was going to die. Fantastic. It was pretty damn obvious that the universe just enjoyed working against him.

"Don't lie to me again," Derek growled and the emotion in his voice was unrecognisable because it was emotion, thick and powerful and offering a tiny glimpse into someone Stiles had yet to understand.

A shiver made its way along his spine as the words washed over his skin like a ruinous caress. He shifted again in another pathetic attempt to escape and suddenly he was being dragged onto Derek's lap, his erection rubbing against the alpha's jeans painfully as the alpha pulled him open, exposing his hole further.

He opened his mouth to tell Derek to stop, or to tell him to keep going or perhaps to throw up, his terror hazed mind couldn't really comprehend what was happening and his heart was beating oh so fast.

With an unsettling rumble of deep satisfaction the alpha pressed a thumb against the most vulnerable and intimate part of him.

It was too much, all too much. Stiles came from the frighteningly sudden rush of exposure as if Derek hadn't just taken him to the edge of a cliff but lifted him up in his big, werewolf arms and thrown him off it. He shook through the orgasm before he slumped boneless against the bed not even concerned that he was still offering his ass, raised invitingly into the air right in the alpha's face.

He was breathing heavily, sweaty and now covered in his own semen but considering how determined Derek had been to ignore him for all eternity he would say it wasn't bad for a first effort. Not bad at all.

And God when the alpha had touched him _there. _He hadn't even tried penetrating him before Stiles was experiencing the most intense orgasm of his life. And he was still shaking from it. Damn.

There had never been so many conflicting emotions inside his body at one time. But he knew that he had to get away from the alpha and the post coital urge to snuggle because of the feelings. He roused himself into action pulling his body off of the bed where he'd collapsed half sprawled on the mattress and half all over Derek like one multiple limbed creature wincing at the contact on his sensitive cock.

He pulled himself away from Derek and the alpha let him without saying a word, without a single comment about what had just transpired between them. Dammit. Stiles didn't, couldn't even look at him so freaking unsure of what he would see if he did. Because he was currently having an internal struggle of the meltdown kind due to a reality where it had been perfectly okay for him to spread his legs for Derek, no questions asked.

Holy God. When he'd _touched..._

Stiles felt his face heat up as he staggered into the bathroom and straight into the shower, turning on the water and nearly groaning at the sensation of it, running across his heavily marked body. He didn't need to be a werewolf to know Derek's scent was everywhere, under his very skin claiming him in a way that he'd never really know what it was like to be truly alone ever again.

And that thought was just fucking scary.

God if Scott had even been within three feet of him just now he'd be able to smell exactly what they'd just been getting up to. And that just made him feel even more like an idiot. Derek's sex God body was destroying all of the rational decisions he'd made and then blowing his brains out with all of the sexual tension. He was certain now that his IQ was dropping and if the way he was blushing and feeling the sudden urge to belt out into song in the shower was any indication; he was clearly getting more of the feelings too.

This was getting to be too much. He needed a break from Derek and his stupid face that made him want to seriously reconsider protecting his virtue. Was this because the full moon was in two days?

Of course that made perfect sense. Stiles wasn't having the feelings, that was just freaking impossible because Derek was a stupid werewolf cactus jerk and thus feelings could not exist in harmony with the alpha because his android qualities sought them out and destroyed them whilst simultaneously drinking the blood of his enemies.

So what he thought he was feeling was in fact the opposite of that. A total brain malfunction. He was clearly just being affected by the full moon and hormones, and the Derek sexy. He didn't have the feelings. Nope. Not at all. But he seriously needed to consider some alpha boundaries or else it was a very likely outcome that he would be impaled by a werewolf penis and totally ripped apart.

And that was not on his list of things he wanted to experience in life. Ever.

* * *

School was better the next day. And worse.

Mainly because Derek's beta groupies had finally succumbed to their uh- needs and were not present at school. The lack of werewolf made it easier to think and while he was given the brief respite he tried to come up with a plan to get to the Sheriff's department without Derek noticing which was completely impossible but he was working on it.

And then even that wasn't a problem. Because an announcement came over the loudspeaker whilst he was sitting in class pondering various Houdini acts interrupting the reasonably normal school environment.

"It has come to our attention that a werewolf has been spotted within the woods surrounding the school. As a precaution the students are to be sent home and school will be suspended until the coming Monday"

Several people whooped and then the rest seemed to look at Stiles accusingly as if it were his fault because his werewolf boyfriend was apparently the problem here. Which clearly meant they watched the news and believed everything elderly psychotic werewolf hunters said. Great.

"It's not Derek," he said but that was what anybody who was lying would say so it's not like he'd succeeded at convincing them. Reveling in that failure of epic proportions he grabbed his books and followed the crowd out of the classroom. The halls filled quickly with people and Stiles suddenly understood what a perfect opportunity he'd been given.

Time. Lots of time, apparently. It wasn't even twelve o'clock yet. He pulled out his cell phone and called his dad to come and pick him up after patiently explaining that he didn't need to shoot Derek for any kind of mistreatment. Yet.

He went to his locker still fuming that people could believe the psycho Gerard when he was clearly batshit crazy whilst also hating Derek for giving off a creeper vibe that was not helping his cause at all. He tried not to think about the werewolf sighting either. It could just be a local werewolf who'd gotten out by mistake and was now proceeding to run through the woods like a moron but the probability of that was slim.

Everyone in Beacon Hills, and pretty much every single town everywhere knew how to chain up a werewolf during heat week. These little slip ups just did not happen because the consequences were just far too great.

So it was more likely to be the rogue werewolf and he was not liking the pattern that was emerging seeing as it meant that maybe, just maybe the monster might have it out for him. And that was totally unfair because he hadn't even hit it with Scott's baseball bat that hard and he was as much of a threat as a peeled carrot at dinner time. Seriously, Greenberg was more of a threat than he was. And Matt. And hell even Danny too.

He was like a marshmallow that the rogue werewolf felt the sudden ridiculous urge to roast and he knew Derek would not like that. At all.

He walked out the school's entrance and was awarded with the welcoming sight of his baby. And she was intact and no longer tainted by evil werewolfness. He nearly wept at the sight of her, and of his dad grinning at him from behind the wheel. It was the perfect combo to finish the shitty day. His dad got out and hugged him and Stiles felt the sudden urge to kiss him and the jeep and to create rainbows in the sky with butterflies fluttering all over the goddamn place because suddenly what people at school thought about Derek didn't matter anymore because everything was finally going right.

He climbed into his baby whispering sweet nothings to her to express his uncontrollable adoration. The Sheriff just rolled his eyes, familiar with his many, many peculiar quirks.

"How did you get her fixed so quickly?" he demanded all too familiar with the slow goings of the Sheriff's department because his baby had become evidence at a murder scene and he was not okay with that. He hoped they'd washed her, it seemed so dirty to leave all that evil on her.

His dad shook his head and once he'd gotten over the initial strangeness of seeing him after so long he noticed a tightness to his expression that his smile had hidden. But Stiles just knew him too well to be fooled.

"I didn't. It was Derek. He made sure the boys over at forensics made it a priority before he sent it to get fixed. Think he scared them a hell of a lot, too."

Stiles gaped at him oddly touched that Derek cactus jerk had done something so unbelievably nice. And for no reason at all. In fact, he was certain wasn't meant to know about it from the conspiratorial tone of his father's voice.

What the freaking hell was Derek Hale doing?

"Thanks for bringing her here, dad," he said suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. Which was not making it any easier to hate Derek. "Is something wrong?"

He glanced down just in case his dad actually was planning on shooting Derek only to realise that his gun was gone. And his badge. What?

"Where's your gun and badge?" he demanded having a very bad feeling. His father's face constricted in a helpless what can you do expression and Stiles knew with every fibre of his being that it had something to do with him.

"They fired you didn't they?" he said. "And it's because of me-"

He remembered the different looks he'd gotten from his classmates and teachers and he knew exactly what the problem was. Dammit.

"-because of Derek. Isn't it?"

His father sighed as Stiles realised just how royally fucked up that was. "I'm on a leave of absence. They didn't think it reflected well on Beacon Hills to have a Sheriff whose teenage son offered himself to an alpha who is also a suspect in two murders."

He just sat there not even trying to start the engine because suddenly nothing really mattered besides how terrible of a son he was like beyond terrible, antichrist level of terrible son material. The thought of what all of this would do to his dad hadn't even crossed his mind at all and he couldn't believe that he'd been so distracted with Derek as to neglect him completely. Guilt twisted through him, painful and fast.

He'd never done this before. His dad had always been his number one priority and he'd always felt the need to look after him as best he could. It was only fair when his dad had had to raise him alone, he was only returning the favour. But Derek had pushed those instincts right out of his mind. He was clearly deluded and being driven ever further into the bowels of teenage insanity.

"I'm sorry dad. I am like the worse son ever," he said. "I am actually apologising right now because through some cruel twist of fate you ended up being stuck with me. Seriously, I don't know if you killed somebody in a past life or whatever but clearly you did something wrong to deserve me as your son…"

"Stiles," he said, shaking his head at him. "You are my greatest achievement and I would kill thousands of people in a past life if that's what it takes to have you as my son in this one."

His mouth fell open. "I really don't know where to start with that statement. Uh- did you partake in a recent religious conversion that I wasn't aware of? Haven't you got any better achievements than lil old me? And how long exactly have you been a closet serial killer because I would really like to know."

His father rolled his eyes but he leaned over and patted him on the back gently. "It's okay, son. Now why don't you tell me how everything's been going."

Stiles started the engine as a way to distract himself from the question because there was a long list of things he would rather be doing instead like being eaten by a rogue werewolf or watching Allison and Scott talk about how much they loved each other whilst simultaneously making out. That sounded much more appealing than answering the question. The Sheriff picked up on his hesitation immediately as he drove out of the school's parking lot.

"Derek treating you right?" he asked and Stiles could hear the dangerous edge to his tone that meant he was probably going to shoot someone. He was quick to prevent him going on a killing spree though because he obviously had a secret liking for it that had only recently come to his attention and was highly concerning.

"He hasn't killed me yet, so I'd say that's a good sign. But what I really wanted to do was look up his file because he's about as open with his past as a freaking soviet spy and I need to know more about him but unemployment kind of puts a roadblock on my plan to borrow his case file from the station."

His father smirked at his interpretive use of the word 'borrow'. "Coincidentally I had already liberated Hale's file before the aforementioned leave of absence and it's currently sitting on the kitchen table."

Stiles grinned feeling unbelievably grateful that his dad could be so spectacularly awesome. "And this I how I know we're related."

His dad tsked at him in a this doesn't mean I approve of you breaking the law because I am the Sheriff even if I am on a leave of absence which we both know means I'm fired but still I'm a stickler for the law so deal with it. Stiles rolled his eyes knowing there was no way he could change his mind. It was a lot easier for him to possess an open minded perception of everything when it came to morals.

Moral ambiguity was the only way to go these days.

Stiles drove his dad home, the both of them tossing out different ideas about how they could catch the rogue alpha and how freaking crazy Gerard Argent was supposed to do so without getting anybody else killed.

"He'll get the job done," his dad insisted. "Though not everyone approves of his methods."

Stiles was certainly a part of that group. He was an entire protesting mob full of disapproval of old man Argent's methods. Because they happened to involve killing Derek before he killed him first out of frustration. And he was saving the death of his werewolf boyfriend for later.

"Did the file mention any reason why Gerard might want to kill Derek or at least give everybody else an excuse to by lying about him killing people?"

His dad frowned. "I think there's a casefile about that. His daughter was murdered by a rogue werewolf but I think Derek was present. At least that's what the incident report said. Suppose Argent blames him for her death?"

Stiles felt a little overwhelmed by this sudden mess of information. How did Derek always get himself into the worse situations? He was almost as much as a magnet for trouble as Stiles was. And speaking of trouble. "Dad, do you know who started the Hale house fire?"

The Sheriff's expression darkened. "I think you should ask Derek about that, not me."

He pulled into their familiar driveway feeling kind of pissed that his question only led to further questions that Derek would rather yank out each individual hair of his eyebrows than answer. Just freaking great. There was no point even asking him. After their little sexual encounter last night and Stiles had showered himself reasonably clean he'd gone to bed and Derek hadn't even asked if he could stay, having vanished mysteriously before he'd even exited the bathroom.

The extent of their words that morning had been asking roughly if Stiles wanted toast with his breakfast. Apart from that the words they'd spoken had been hardly stimulating conversation and Derek was tenser than ever as if he couldn't figure out what the fuck he was meant to be doing with his tall muscular frame. Stiles could list a few things off the top of his head but he figured he didn't want to unleash the beast at the kitchen table so he let the silence simmer around them. But they'd at least reached some sort of agreement last night.

Don't lie to me again.

He paused beside his jeep as his dad walked straight into the house pulling out his cell phone to call Derek because he was going to find out about school being suspended sometime and he'd rather not leave it so the alpha found out from someone else. Because then he would surely die. And so he left a message on Derek's phone because apparently they were at the stage of total and complete honesty.

"Hey Derek," he said not liking the way his voice rose at the alpha's name. "School's closed until Monday. And in the interest of full disclosure I'm at dad's about to read your police file. Don't wait up, honey."

He tried not to feel too smug about his words as he hung up. Hey, it's not his fault the alpha had said not to lie to him anymore. But that meant he might not have very much time to read the police file before Derek showed up. He cursed his eagerness and hurried inside Casa de Stilinski.

* * *

He'd managed to read through the entire file- which was illuminatingly large- twice before he was interrupted. Only not by the person he would have expected. Dr Deaton stood at the door glancing around his surroundings as if he were expecting them to kill him. It would have seemed strange but they lived in Beacon Hills where people died like every freaking five minutes. It was strange when people _weren't _dying.

"Are you looking for Scott?" he asked a little surprised that he was there at all. He was hardly ever seen around town. Stiles could only ever remember him being at the animal clinic.

"I'm looking for you Mr Stilinski to give you this."

He handed over a jar filled with what looked to be…

"Ash? You're giving me ash?"

Dr Deaton only smiled. "I'm giving you a way to protect yourself if need be."

He wasn't sure if he was more confused that Deaton was admitting he was some sort of shaman or that he was taking time out of his daily schedule to mess with him. But the dude was too serious for that kind of crap and Stiles figured it had more to do with the mystical shaman ash thing.

Plus a jar for of ash was exactly what he'd always wanted. Sort of.

"I use this to keep the supernatural out of my clinic. It's a front line against say, werewolves."

Oh. Deaton thought Derek was going to kill him. Well it wasn't like the thought was impossible no one could predict how far a Stilinski could push someone's buttons. But seriously magic fairy dust? That was going to stop a big, scary, alpha? He'd believe it only when he saw it.

He twisted the jar in his grip inspecting it closely as the ash moved around. It seemed pretty freaking innocent like your normal grade A- holy shit why did you burn that?- ash.

"It's mountain ash and all it takes to work is the belief that it will work, your own personal spark you could say."

Stiles just looked at him wondering where the hell this was coming from. He would have called Scott and asked why his boss was so freaking weird but the idiot wasn't answering which meant that the heat had probably taken over by now. He would not be available until he'd sorted through his little Scotty issues.

"Uh thanks. But just to be clear there's no possibility that I'll say explode without warning or catch alight if I use this?"

Dr Deaton smiled in that secretive and mysterious way that most people seemed to be doing these days. "Only if you believe it will."

And then the veterinarian/ crazy voodoo man walked away leaving Stiles with some pretty damn odd thoughts and images and a jar of fairy dust clutched tightly in his grip.

He didn't get to think about the strange encounter for long. Derek showed up almost immediately after the departure of Deaton, the way his chest moved indicating he'd run through the freaking woods to get there. Stiles kind of looked at him blankly not sure how his new perception fit together with what he'd originally thought of Derek after having read the file. Instead of just whisking him away like he normally did Derek actually shook his dad's hand and sat down at the table next to Stiles who was trying not to laugh or start screaming in hysteria because he knew he was in deep shit. Or that he was about to be.

The alpha slung his arm over the back of Stiles chair probably as some big showy effort of werewolf possession. He shifted awkwardly in his seat very aware of the jar of ash tucked in his backpack and the fact that Derek was clearly going to eat him for looking at his personal file.

A very revealing personal file that made Stiles think many different things at once. And maybe now the new information would finally be able to give him a better advantage. But still Derek had no right to be angry, he'd wanted full disclosure and Stiles hadn't hesitated to mention his inability to resist solving big cactus alpha puzzles.

And Derek didn't seem to be pretending that he didn't exist from the way his fingers brushed oh so subtly against the back of his neck while his dad busied himself making coffee so at least they weren't at his you're dead to me stage which was a good sign. But the touch was lingering and totally hot in an oh my god what the hell are you doing right now kind of way and making his heart perform some very serious rhythmical hurdles.

Heart palpitations were the new panic attack and he needed to harden the fuck up and get used to the sensation because Derek was anything but predictable and he should expect this sort of shit in the near future. Seriously.

Stiles should just try to establish some sort of intense psychic mind meld kind of skills if he wanted to keep ahead of the alpha and keep his ass- which was getting an unusual amount of action lately- untouched and un-werewolf fucked.

Because he didn't think Derek was going to consider werewolf sexy time where Stiles did the human fucking what with him being an alpha with years of psychological and emotional abuse that made him mistrust everything from rainbows to Adderall addicted teens who were really harmless and not at all annoying once you got to know them.

Well once you _really _got to know them. And that kind of shit took years and years of foot in mouth disease related tolerance. If Scott could do it, Derek could.

"I heard about your job," Derek said offering nothing else, no words of encouragement or expression of compassion or a hey looks like your life sucks because of your shitty son, sorry about that but I'm still going to screw him. Nope. That was literally it.

He almost felt the need to applaud at such inspiring words. Derek could stir men to fight bravely in world werewolf wars with that kind of talk. People would sing songs about his eloquent speeches and he'd become as famous as Martin Luther King if he kept being so chatty. Stiles nearly rolled his eyes because he was pretty sure soon Derek's wires would start showing underneath his robot skin.

God, who even was that repressed?

Right people whose whole families were burned alive because of what they were or weren't. People who were constantly being hunted, hated and basically allocated a death wish from the universe since birth. No wonder he saw enemies in sunshine and friendly smiles.

Although sunshine meant skin cancer and friendly smiles could just as easily be psychotic smiles of serial killers about to start the murdering.

Huh.

Maybe Derek was onto something. The alpha's thumb brushed sneakily across the half sensitive half mauled area of his neck and he nearly jumped out of his chair letting out the strangled sound of some kind of dying animal. The Sheriff looked at him like he was being the oddball here and Stiles managed his usual act natural and no one will think otherwise facial expression. Derek's grip tightened on his neck but the bastard sat there all innocently.

"It's no problem," his dad said gruffly. "You got any leads on that rogue yet?"

Derek's expression hardened.

"Who died?" Stiles teased before the alpha shut him up with a scary alpha look. Oh no.

"He killed again," he said and Stiles wanted to seal his mouth shut forever so help him God, amen. "Couple miles out from the school in the woods that's why I ran here."

He wondered if he'd realised how suspicious that was going to make him running through the very same woods as a killer. And the town was already pretty freaking sure it was his fault. "Was it another…?"

Stiles couldn't even bring himself to ask the question. He was already starting to picture it but then Derek's other hand slid across his thigh under the table tortuously close to his suddenly interested business and he was picturing something else entirely.

"Not a girl. A hunter. They were patrolling when the rogue killed him. He was pretty young too, in his twenties."

Stiles tried to keep his shit together and speak like a normal person but it was pretty freaking hard when Derek was basically screwing him under the table. "You were there?" he squeaked out. "Don't you know they already think you did it?"

Derek looked at him like he was the stupidest human being on the planet although Scott had beat him out for the title years ago. "No they just pumped me full of arrows and wolfsbane yesterday because we're secretly allies."

And there was that sarcasm again. The alpha's skill was improving, colour him impressed. The Sheriff snorted as he pushed over a cup of coffee to Derek studiously ignoring eye contact with Stiles so there would be no temptation for him to ask.

They had figured out long ago that coffee was like speed for him and clearly did not want another repeat of the experience. Stiles figured it was a fair call he had broken his dad's bed. And the tv downstairs. And the washing machine.

Don't even ask what he'd been trying to do with them. At the time it had made sense.

"I heard Stiles was visited by three betas yesterday whilst you left him unprotected."

"Dad!" he cried wishing he'd never let that precious information leave his lips. His dad gave Derek a pointed look as if he were trying to convey that the alpha needed work on his boyfriend skills. Both of Derek's hands tightened on him and Stiles tried no to freak out because one could decapitate him and the other could do much, much worse.

Oh God please don't let Derek turn him into a eunuch.

"What?" the alpha growled looking mightily raging werewolf dangerous.

Stiles clambered to his feet. "Well dad it's been fun. Thanks for getting me murdered."

"No problem son," the Sheriff said his eyes still on Derek. "And don't you dare leave him unprotected again."

Derek jerked his head in acknowledgement of the dad lecture and Stiles tried not to hyperventilate because his dad was giving an alpha a lecture without a gun upon his person. Did he have a death wish?

"Alright time to go," he muttered grabbing his backpack and hurrying outside as quickly as he could without actually running. He hadn't even made it to his jeep before Derek was pushing him up against it. Ouch.

"I didn't lie!" he cried as the alpha caged him with his arms, eyes narrowing with intent. "I just thought you'd remember so I didn't mention it."

Derek snarled claws elongating and brushing possessively along the column of his throat. Jesus he knew how to make even the toughest people wet themselves.

"Stiles."

"Oh come on seriously? Aren't we past the big macho alpha intimidation yet?"

The alpha's jaw clenched and his facial expression hardened. "You should go."

That was the last thing he expected Derek to say. Where the hell was he meant to go? The freaking Bahamas? Somewhere where the alpha couldn't kill him?

"Go where? back to your place or an early grave?" he asked feeling the need to clarify.

"Stiles," he rasped out in a very not normal Derek sounding voice. The clawed hands sliding across his neck were shaking. What the flying fuck was happening?

"Go," he growled seemingly struggling to keep himself still. Stiles hadn't seen Derek lose his control like this ever before. And for some unbelievably stupid reason he reached for him in concern fingers brushing against the skin of his bare arm.

"Derek-"

The alpha roared and suddenly he was slamming Stiles face first into the ground his scream muffled by the sudden grass to face effort to silence a Stilinski. He struggled choking on the dirt and grass in his mouth as his heart thundered in his chest. Oh shit. Holy God. What the fuck?

And then he felt it. Derek's very hard and aroused werewolf erection pressing against the back of his jeans. Actually no, he felt him rutting senselessly against him. He was being humped like a dog. Oh shit. His stomach dropped and he only struggled harder scratching his hands on rocks and whimpering in pain as the alpha howled, horribly inhuman sounds that hurt his ears. Derek's claws dug into his hips forcing him still.

The alpha pulled him off the ground snarling angrily as he jerked him closer for better leverage and he was able to breathe again. Though he'd much rather pass out and die instead.

"No, no, no," he begged flinching at the warning sound coming out of the alpha. An alpha who was finally in heat.

Oh God he was so dead.

Derek clawed through his clothes so that they were hanging in tatters off him and he cried out in pain when they drew blood.

The alpha stilled and Stiles knew that this was his last chance to get through his lust crazed brain.

"Derek," he sobbed. "Don't- don't take me this way."

The alpha paused as if considering his words and Stiles couldn't stop shaking.

"Stiles," Derek muttered blankly as if finally recognising him. Heat was making his senses cloudy and with a howl of anguish that had Stiles totally shitting himself Derek somehow let him go. He scrambled away breathing heavily feeling blood run down his face from a cut on his cheek. Derek was hunched over and his shoulders seemed to be realigning as he shifted. Stiles eyes widened in horror. He could literally hear the bones moving.

"Run," he grunted out in a deep voice sounding unlike his own.

Stiles hesitated. There was no way he was running again so easily after what had happened the first time. He scooped up the backpack full of his jar of mountain ash while his fingers shook and his legs seemed incapable of simple motor function.

He just stood there and watched as the change took over, alarmingly fascinated and disturbed by it at the same time. He couldn't look away.

Derek didn't look up but Stiles knew that his eyes were red.

"Run!" he roared slamming his claws into the dirt to keep from going after him. Stiles didn't need any other encouragement. He dived into his jeep thanking the Lord he'd left the keys in the ignition before starting the engine, jerking the handbrake off and slamming his foot down on the accelerator to get the hell out of there. He was almost worried leaving his dad behind but he knew that once Derek's heat had hit him he'd be interested in only one thing.

Him.

He managed to get his breathing together wincing when he noticed the shallow cuts, dirt and grass stains covering every inch of him. He looked like a freaking mess and he couldn't believe that he hadn't considered how much of a danger Derek was to him before. He was like an activated sleeper cell or something.

God he'd been so wrong.

He was already yanking the jar of dirt out of his bag when he noticed the shape in his revision mirror.

Derek. Actual legit _wolfed _out Derek. From what he remembered of the rogue he could confidently say that Derek's wolf was bigger. Much bigger.  
Holy shit fuck. The alpha could move. There was something beautiful about the potent power of the beast as it ran, paws pounding across the surface of the road as it bounded after him. He groaned in frustration increasing the car's speed.

Derek had already lost it. He was too strong, to dominant and too fast for Stiles to shake. Unless he was able to create a barrier with the ash.

But he was going to need time for that. And with Derek trailing him like a dog chasing a car time was not what he had. But if he could get his hands on that wolfsbane trunk… He didn't want to hurt Derek but if it was between him and a particularly painful sexual encounter with a sex crazed werewolf he knew what he'd pick. He struggled to breathe calming himself down so that he could think and formulate a plan that didn't involve torture.

He didn't think Derek would hurt him like the rogue had hurt those women but he didn't trust him enough to risk it.

God he needed a freaking miracle. Things could not get any worse. And then suddenly there was another werewolf on the road in front of him crouched on all fours, unmoving in the darkness. He screamed and swerved around it missing it barely whilst he recognised it.

The rogue werewolf.

Holy fuck was _everybody _trying to kill him tonight?

There was no hesitation on Derek's part he just ploughed straight into the other werewolf taking him down like a tonne of bricks. And then they were making these awful sounds that he could hear inside the jeep as they snarled and snapped at each other, rolling around together as they fought making them look like one mass of werewolf hairy. Stiles watched feeling infinitely more panicked as he followed as much of the impromptu werewolf brawl in his revision mirror until he couldn't see either of them anymore. Holy shit.

Beacon Hills was going to the dogs, literally.

He made it back to Derek's house unscathed though in some sick twisted way he had the rogue werewolf to thank for slowing Derek down. Although he was an alpha and he wanted to fuck and Stiles knew he didn't have much time left at all.

He sprinted into the house too frightened to risk the detour for wolfsbane as he ran to Derek's bedroom slamming the door shut and wrenching open the jar. He took a handful of the magic fairy dust praying that it would work as he let himself focus drawing a circular boundary around the edge of the bed. He gave plenty of leeway in case the alpha tried to snatch at him. He let his breath become slow and even as he tried to visualise what he wanted; a ten foot freaking wall of solid bulletproof glass to keep the alpha away.

He didn't use up the whole jar too scared that it was going to run out and he would need more. Once he was done he didn't give himself any time to survey his handiwork pulling his backpack off his shoulder and settling down slowly on the bed wincing when it irritated his cuts.

He just sat there listening to the sounds of distant howls and basically enjoying the traumatic experiences of the last hour. The cuts that covered him stung like a bitch, he was covered in dirt and extremely itchy from being basically humped by a horny werewolf in the grass. He wanted to shower but the bathroom was out of the protective circle and he was too terrified to risk it. Or the wolfsbane a level below and he was really starting to regret not risking that.

He didn't know how long he sat there, shaking and looking like a zombie from Michael Jackson's Thriller music video only less stylish because Derek had torn his jeans and shirt to shreds. Maybe it was a couple minutes, or hours, days even he couldn't seem to get his brain functioning past that chilling moment on the grass with Derek hovering over him, pinning him down and rendering him helpless.

He knew the heat had caught Derek by surprise. Hell by now he'd figured he had been trying to warn him before it had taken over completely but he couldn't get past that moment where he'd been so utterly at the mercy of an animal.

Stiles was still shaking when Derek tore through the door. And yes he literally destroyed it tearing it from its hinges as he prowled into the room like an avenging hot werewolf murderer. He was human Derek covered in blood and injuries from the rogue which must have been painful enough to bring him back to his human form. Stiles prayed he'd stick with it. His first sighting of wolf Derek had not been the enjoyable experience he'd been wishing it would be.

"You know I'm pretty sure I didn't even lock that," he offered keeping eye contact because he was expecting Derek to lunge at him at any moment.

He did exactly that and Stiles shrieked scrambling further up the bed until he was against the wall until he realised the alpha had stopped. At the barrier. It still scared the shit out him anyway. But it had worked. The magic fairy dust had worked. Thank you Jesus, fuck.

"Mountain ash," he growled in acknowledgment of Stiles' badassery.

"Are you hurt?" Stiles asked. "I mean I saw the rogue-"

Derek snarled again and he flinched.

"What are you doing?" he asked prowling around the edge of the boundary like a freaking lunatic. His eyes widened. Derek was seriously asking him that question? Was he not present at the near alpha sexing?

"Uh-trying to prolong my life if that's okay with you."

Derek tossed his head in agitation, scenting the air. "We need to do this now while I'm in control before it starts."

He nearly laughed only it was the last thing he felt like doing ever again. "You call that control? You're acting like a goddamn psycho and thanks for giving me a lifetime of nightmares by the way. Before what starts?"

Derek continued his crazy pacing, breathing heavily so that his chest was practically heaving. "Your heat before you start begging for it."

Stiles mouth fell open. "Before I beg?"

The alpha growled in warning and he hastily averted his eyes. "This is the best way to do it with minimal damage."

He wanted to laugh but in the I'm crazy and losing my mind, fear me way. He could not be serious right now. "Minimal damage are you kidding me? I'm pretty okay in this circle thanks."

Derek snarled again and his agitation was obvious in his pacing. God was he trying to wear away the floorboards? "You're not going to be okay when you come at me and I'm too far gone to control myself."

Oh God. This was actually happening. Right now. There was no way to get out of this. He was so dead.

"But- but."

"Stiles," he growled, eyes red and dangerous. "We have to do this now."

He hesitated as Derek kept up the frantic pacing. Shit. Fuck. This was so not the freaking plan.

"Uh."

"It's either now when I can still be gentle or… I tear you apart," he growled fingers flexing with the need to grab, to touch and to hold him.

Stiles didn't want to die but he figured this was as good as he was going to get it. He sighed clamouring off the bed towards the circle of mountain ash no doubt staining the carpet. He looked into Derek's eyes as if he needed to see something in them that would give him courage.

He took a deep relaxing breath as he brushed it away with his foot, breaking the connection.

And he stepped out of the circle.


	8. Nem

Okay guys this is it. THE WEREWOLF SEXY TIME so avert ye virgin eyes or just bear with me here because I am not a homosexual gay man and/or werewolf or even remotely used to writing sexy times so I hope it doesn't disappoint or make you want to punch yourself in the face :D because I'm feeling quite depraved actually for writing this XD ha who am I kidding... slash makes the world a better place.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Nem.**

The alpha was on him in seconds scorchingly hot hands wrapping around his waist and lifting him into the air like gravity no longer existed bringing them back onto the bed as he crossed the broken barrier.

Stiles let out a brief whimper of manly courage when he was pressed deeply into the mattress the lack of claws and red eyes extremely unsettling because that meant so far the alpha was in control and that he still wanted him. And that was some seriously extreme shit.

Derek didn't start the sexing straight away because he was clearly a master manipulator and enjoyed watching Stiles squirm. Instead he just looked down at him, his gaze so intense that Stiles wanted to shut his own eyes to maturely avoid the contact of Derek's laser ones which were currently probing his brain.

His heart was pounding wildly in his chest and he was already half hard with anticipation which was kind of sick and wrong when you thought about it but he didn't care. He figured if he was about to get his cherry seriously popped he may as well try to freaking enjoy it.

Before the tearing apart thing.

"You're angry at me aren't you?" he said shuddering when Derek turned him over so that he was on his knees like some kind of willing and eager whore and that was perfectly a-okay with him.

He let himself be manhandled into optimum sex position almost wanting to protest to preserve his manly dignity but it was very clear who had more experience in these things so he gave Derek free reign. Better to be thoroughly fucked then sorry.

"No," Derek said, in his very flat tone that revealed absolutely nothing as he completely controlled his position on the bed taking the we out of werewolf sex and turning the occasion into a very peculiar I'll do everything and you'll just lie there sex party.

For the moment he was pretty okay with that because he did not want to encourage the beast by touching him back. He didn't want to see what can of worms that amount of PDA action would open.

The alpha moved him round like he was a freaking Tetris block about to be inserted somewhere. Or about to have something inserted in him. And he realised just what this meant.

Holy sweet _mother _of Jesus_._

He couldn't believe that he was doing this. Or better yet, that he was letting the alpha do this. After all the effort gone into investigating, irritating him, pressing the boundaries to see how far he could push Derek for some kind of advantage it seemed like a waste to give in now.

But at least he could confidently admit his first time wouldn't be with a psychotic murderer. Derek's file had only a few misdemeanours; a couple of fights at school and the Hale house fire before his biggest crime which was basically being present when Gerard's daughter was brutally murdered by a rogue. And she died without Derek saving her.

And all that meant was that the alpha's hero skills seriously needed some work.

The woman's name had been Kate. But Stiles really couldn't judge because for all he knew Derek hadn't been the alpha back then or maybe the rogue had just been too strong. Or he'd been too injured to save her. It's not like he'd purposely let her die.

Maybe she was the girl in the photo and he was still trying to get over the heartbreak of her death. Or maybe they'd had some totally love-struck Romeo/Juliet romance as both hunter and werewolf which made them into a pretty freaking interesting soap drama as star crossed lovers condemned by fate and et cetera.

Conclusion: relationship drama becomes more important than actual relationship.

He seemed like the type to be wounded and brooding all the time because his first love had been brutally murdered and he'd been forced to watch with angsty horror. It made perfect sense although Stiles felt a little bad for being so jealous of a dead girl. That was a little awkward.

But that meant that buried deep within that werewolf exterior were actually feelings that existed and used to be expressed more freely before he got so sullen and heartbroken. And maybe it was that thought that made it easier to trust him. Or at least, trust him not to kill him.

He didn't know exactly why he had such faith that Derek wouldn't destroy him as he took the one thing he'd been avoiding thinking about his entire life but reading that file had somehow made everything a lot easier. There was less freaking uncertainty about the whole thing.

And now, even if it wasn't the best of ideas he was willing to try.

He definitely trusted him a hell of a lot more than the rogue. Or Gerard. Or Matt. Or hell even freaking Lydia. And it was that understanding that helped him to not have a heart attack and die when Derek started removing his clothes.

And the alpha certainly had some skills when it came to getting Stiles naked in under a minute although considering the state of what he was wearing it was hardly a shock when the alpha literally just ripped them off his body.

He gasped at the sudden nakedness, freaking out even more when Derek was unexpectedly naked too and he could see everything including his alpha business in full glory which the alpha wanted to stick in him. God and it was an idea the alpha was pretty freaking fond of as a matter of a fact.

Damn. He was so screwed.

Or about to be.

Jesus.

"Okay, okay, okay," he muttered feeling the need to express his fear through words. Many, many words with multiple conjunctives. "This is happening. Holy God. I'm going to die."

Derek's clawless hands slid over his bare back making him shiver all over and making everything so much worse. Why did he have to be so damn attractive?

"You need to relax," the alpha commanded.

Because that was an easy thing to do with a distinct possibility of agonising death on the horizon.

Derek reached around his bare back, hands sliding over Stiles cock and eliciting a moan while he jerked him into complete hardness in a couple strokes. A few brief touches revealed how little attention Stiles had had from anybody in his lifetime.

And that was kind of depressing really.

Although Derek didn't really seem to care about that at the moment. He felt something wet against his ass and nearly shrieked out a sound that would have been reminiscent of a dying whale. What the holy fuck was that?

He tried to regulate his breathing. It was probably lube. Did werewolves even need to use it? He didn't like not being able to see what was going on down there and tried to crane his neck around for a better look.

He couldn't really see anything besides Derek- muscular, lickable and fucking hot- Derek on his knees behind him, covering his body with his own. Stiles was totally shaking by now, breathing heavily as he reacted to every single little touch, the fear making him so freaking sensitive to it.

Derek's hands parted his delicate cheeks and he let out a broken gasp because Holy Jesus, Mary and Joseph this was it.

The werewolf sexy time.

"Wait, Derek," he protested weakly because he wasn't ready, he was never sure he'd be ready for this but then the alpha's finger pressed at his entrance, already slick and sliding through that tight ring of muscle.

_Penetrating _him.

And suddenly his protests didn't matter. He cried out in surprise because there was no way in hell he'd ever pictured it feeling like this. It was so strange, the slight burn warning him that Derek needed to go slow and the suddenly full feeling telling him how much his body would prefer not to have anything in stuck in his ass.

God even the stretch of one finger was too much. How was Derek meant to…?

But then he started moving sliding it slowly in and out of him, working him loose and fitting him for something much, much bigger. And his body actually seemed to like it if the way his face flushed and his toes curled was a pretty freaking clear sign.

After the much needed preparation his body seemed to grow accustomed to it and he found himself liking the sensation. And it eventually left him gasping and harder than ever. And when the alpha's finger slid across that little wonderful spot inside him he let out a wanton moan, crying out for Derek, for more, more. He found himself pushing back against the finger, almost impaling himself on it so desperate was his growing need to be filled.

"Keep saying my name," Derek growled into his ear nipping at the soft flesh of his earlobe as Stiles huffed out a needy breath nearly coming apart at his dangerously seductive words. "It keeps me in control."

He wanted to say 'Bullshit you just want me to beg and talk dirty to you, pervert' but instead he cried out, groaning when Derek inserted another finger without feeling the need to warn him, the sick bastard. He winced around them as he was stretched even further taking them both into his body because apparently he was a sick fucker too.

But that didn't mean the heat had hit him. He didn't feel any different to Derek's previous sexual encounters and he was a little worried the alpha had lied and he'd been totally tricked into permitting to be fucked. Because he was not being swept away by an all-consuming need to hump furniture and that concerned him a little.

"Derek, Derek," he gasped feeling his body welcome a third finger and nearly weeping at the fullness of it. God he couldn't take any more he was literally about to explode into a million sexed up pieces. "Why am I- meant to –have…have heat?"

Derek grunted against him his free hand sliding all over his body neglecting his- dripping in pre-come- cock for obvious reasons because Stiles didn't think he could hold out for much longer and the alpha –damn him- seemed to sense it.

"The claim," he groaned when Stiles started moving faster against his fingers. "When I bit you… I passed on the heat because you're human. It's to make it easier for us to… fuck."

"Derek," he gasped picking up the rhythm of his fingers in his ass by controlling his thrusts. Oh God, this was just too much he was going to…

"Wait," Derek snarled withdrawing his fingers because he had bigger plans than for it just to end like that. Unfortunately. Stiles expected the warmth to leave him when he did, though he did notice an emptier sense of loss, an odder feeling than he could have possibly imagined but that's not what happened.

His heart was suddenly pumping too fast, sweat was pooling in his lower back and he was abruptly burning up like he was on fire. God, he needed. He just needed something. What was that again?

"Derek," he said suddenly. "I'm on fire. Holy God. It's too… it's too much. Stop it."

He could feel the temperature of the room increasing or maybe it was within himself and he was being barbequed from the inside without even noticing. His organs would be first to go. He face felt more than flushed it felt like his skin was peeling away, melting off of his face and pooling into sick little puddles on the mattress.

Was he hallucinating?

"Derek," he begged gasping out words like it hurt him because his lungs felt like they were only inhaling fire. "Please, please. It's too hot. Make it stop."

The alpha cursed covering Stiles melting flesh with his own body and he cried out still desperately begging for something his mind couldn't understand. He felt drunk, giddy on his suddenly impaired senses like he was definitely losing his mind.

Had Derek drugged him to make the sex transition easier? He was in agony now wanting to pass out, to stop breathing. He wanted everything to just stop but his body didn't seem to be listening to him anymore.

"Stiles, I know this is your first heat," Derek said in an unimaginably pacifying way. "But you need to calm down before I hurt you."

The inherent desperation in Derek's voice seemed to reach him somewhere in his sex crazed mind and he managed to get a hold of himself though it may as well have been like struggling through a swamp of mind confusion.

Distantly he knew Derek was right. He was losing his shit.

"Do it!" he commanded finding words somehow in his frenzy. Because this wasn't the heat he'd expected. It felt like he was being burned up until he'd be nothing but Stiles ash. It was as if he'd taken a leisurely dip in a pool of blistering lava. "Do it now!"

And slowly ever so slowly, Derek slid into him.

And then everything seemed to stop.

* * *

He came back to himself with the alpha hovering over him, hands caressing every inch of his skin which didn't feel like it was melting off anymore and that was a really nice change. He tightened around Derek's cock in experimental interest feeling fuller than he'd ever been in his life. And the fact that he was still rock hard was a silent communication that he actually enjoyed it.

The alpha growled in warning, the effort earning Stiles a shallow jerk of his hips pushing deeper into him. He groaned at the realisation that the alpha wasn't even fully seated inside him yet and then he just wanted to crumble into a billion little pieces and die. Dammit, he hadn't even bottomed out yet.

Sweet Jesus Fuck.

"There's more?" he cried frantically. "How can there be more of you?"

Derek only pushed in further making Stiles gasp at the aching burn, arching his body into it whilst trying to shift away at the same time because he was indecisive, fuck.

After a couple more tense minutes- with a little bit of werewolf snarling and threatening- Derek stopped moving, his balls pressing up against Stiles' ass. And then he very nearly passed out again. Because that was a giant werewolf cock and it was currently inside him. Holy shit.

"God, what the hell was that?" he cried still breathing heavily and recovering from the fucked up feelings he'd just experienced. It's not every day your flesh felt like it was melting off your bones.

"Your first heat," Derek growled and he could hardly speak as the words actually vibrated through his own body because they were freaking connected at the ass. He shuddered because it was incredibly stimulating feeling Derek's very tone inside him like the music at a concert pounding through his ribs.

God and Derek hadn't even started fucking him yet. Stiles didn't think he could handle any more. The melting skin had been enough of an experience for one day though clearly Derek's dick in his ass was a productive way to solve _that _problem.

He felt like Derek's werewolf cock had an aesthetic quality or something, numbing the heat until it was something oddly distant. Great.

That was going to make keeping him as his sworn arch enemy so much easier.

But it was all too much. Derek just filled him, filled him so much that he didn't think he could live without it ever again. There was too much of him. Derek was everywhere and he couldn't take any more or he was going to just stop existing in active protest.

He paused for a moment, letting Stiles adjust and continue his internal freak out fully seated in the heat of his body and then Derek started moving. And Stiles really got a handle on what too much meant.

Because Derek wasn't giving enough, the shallow thrusts making him needy and desperate for more, dammit. God, he wanted Derek to pound into him, then go so deep that he'd never be able to forget it, to completely make him his.

He wanted that. He wanted that so freaking badly it hurt.

"Derek," he begged making the word sound like an invitation and the alpha snarled jerking his hips faster and harder pushing Stiles' body further up the mattress with each plunging thrust. He definitely could get more of this.

Stiles continued his little breathy sounds of approval moving his body back to accept each twist of Derek's hips hating the feeling of the alpha leaving his body, loving it when he slammed back in.

He wanted to keep them linked like that forever wanted Derek to pin him down and just take and take and take. God, how he wanted that.

But the sensation were all too much, he was too far gone to keep up the delicious friction any longer and when Derek adjusted the angle of his thrust sliding across his prostate Stiles just came apart.

He groaned spattering the mattress with his own come as Derek continued to plunge into him, slower now but certainly not done. He was nowhere near finished. Damn werewolf stamina. That was going to be a problem in the future.

Stiles murmured nonsense as he tried to reboot his brain feeling suddenly less troubled after such mind blowing sex because it possessed such relieving effects. He felt very zen or maybe he'd just reached ultimate coitus enlightenment.

And he lay there somehow still enjoying the drag of Derek inside him as he fucked him slowly, creating friction against his cock as he was rutted into the mattress.

He didn't mean to do it. It was just an instinctive reaction to the too much pleasure overload. He tightened around Derek as he came again feeling more boneless than ever before.

But finally, finally going over the edge again had brought Derek down with him. The alpha came inside him with an animalistic howl and Stiles couldn't believe he'd been so lucky as to get off with minimal ass damage like he'd promised.

Who'd have known he'd keep his word?

He went to pull away, buzzing still from his multiple orgasms but Derek held him fast with a terrifying growl, claws suddenly digging into his hips.

"What?" he demanded wondering what he'd screwed up now but then he felt it. Something much bigger than humanly possible, pressing at his entrance.

Oh God. Holy fuck. Was that a knot? Oh no, please no. He'd heard about them before. And the stories had not been remotely pleasant.

"No, no, no!" he cried trying to squirm away but it was too late Derek had already started his freaking knot party without his goddamn permission. And if he thought he hadn't been able to handle Derek's werewolf cock then there was no way in hell that he-

He gasped in pain as what felt like a fucking golf ball, no a pool table ball, hell a freaking tennis ball worked past the ring of his internal muscle sliding through agonisingly slowly as it worked its way to the base of Derek's still freaking hard erection, sealing them together.

He tried to breathe through it, through the unnatural stretch and burn but this was just freaking ridiculous. It was too damn much for his body to take.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he snapped. "Did the virginity thing give you the freaking great idea of sticking that in me?"

"Just relax," Derek rumbled deeply still managing to make Stiles hot and hard for the third freaking time. What was this asshole doing to him? Right, screwing him senseless and ripping him apart obviously.

He tried to move and immediately felt the tug within him, Derek growling in frustration as he forced Stiles to stay still. He whimpered in pain hating himself when Derek rocked his hips a little and he was already moaning.

He was forced to stay where he was feeling the twinge of his muscles which were aching from being in one position for so long and forced to focus on nothing but the swell of the knot inside him.

There was nothing to distract from it and when Derek jerked into him again he nearly screamed, the alpha's clawed hand working on his cock only managing to transform it into a strangled groan.

He whimpered Derek's name, begging for it to be over and so, so glad that it was about to be. He could survive until then. The alpha growled into his skin, teeth coming down to clamp over his throat and suddenly Derek was spilling in to him.

Only he was clearly filling him up with an entire ocean of his freaking semen. Stiles moaned pushed over the edge again by the sudden wetness, the abrupt slickness inside him as Derek thrust a few more times making it hotter than ever before.

By the time the alpha had pulled out Stiles was collapsed on the side of the bed feeling shivery but completely satisfied even finding the sudden wetness running down his legs as Derek's come leaked out of him extremely hot.

That's how far gone he was.

He closed his eyes, basking in the glory of his slightly traumatic deflowering totally exhausted and utterly swept away by the bliss of so many orgasms in one go. That had definitely not happened to him ever before. Maybe Derek did have some uses.

But then he felt Derek's finger sliding into him _again _and whimpered his disbelief. The alpha's attentions were probing as he inspected his insides for any tearing or damage and Stiles could barely summon the energy to be affected by the emotions of that level of concern.

He felt worn but not broken and considering how much worse it could have been he was feeling pretty okay with the outcome. And then Derek pressed against his prostate again making him come for the fourth? Fifth? Holy hell? time and he was feeling very okay.

In fact. More than okay. Fantastic even. Nothing could be more awesome than this.

Derek pressed an almost apologetic kiss to his jawline turning him over gently so that he could thoroughly ravish his mouth with his tongue after skipping all the nice foreplay earlier. Stiles was exhausted but managed to reciprocate, sort of responding to Derek's touch as readily as he could.

And then he felt Derek's body, already hard against him and ripped his mouth away.

"Again? Are you fucking serious?" he demanded trying to roll away and escape. Derek growled but his eyes were normal and he pulled Stile's body against him, ass pressed against his rock solid erection. Dear Lord he was literally going to be screwed to death.

"Rest," Derek commanded softly burying his face against the nape of Stiles' neck which had him flinching. "I'll take you again later."

God the way he said it. Stiles shuddered. Was he trying to get him to relax? Or make him incredibly freaking horny again? He was clearly evil. Evil sexy and that was the most dangerous combination of them all.

And that was how Stiles lost his previous virginity to a gigantic hulking alpha who may as well have been a mountain of muscles instead of an actual dude. It was pretty fucking funny considering how likely him remaining a virgin until the end of high school, hell even the end of time had been before he'd flung himself at the alpha.

If someone had tried to tell him that a month before he would be the love slave of alpha Derek Hale he would have laughed outright and then made a disparaging comment on the conditions of their mental health. And then also assured them with visual representation and a couple of flash cards just how improbable that would ever be.

The world definitely worked in strange ways.

* * *

Derek didn't let him recover for very long until it was sexy time all over again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Holy shit he was slowly working his way towards being fucked to death.

He was becoming seriously concerned that he would never be able to properly orgasm again having lost track of the number of times already through the haze of werewolf sex. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd broken his orgasm switch or at least worn the freaking hell out of it by flicking it on and off so much within an entire night.

And what was worse was that Derek didn't feel the need to stop for anything. Not to eat, not to sleep not even to clean up the sex explosion covering the sheets. He literally just wanted to fuck.

And fuck.

And fuck.

He got control over himself eventually although that could have had something to do with the fact that the bed broke.

The bed. Broke. They _broke _the fucking bed. Who even has sex wild enough to do that? Werewolves only seemed to make things that more interesting.

So Derek took that as a sign that maybe he should stop screwing Stiles to death. But that didn't stop him fingering him leisurely when they were in the shower afterwards. Stiles' face pressed into Derek's shoulder murmuring tiredly at the alpha's extreme fascination with his ass.

He was also a little freaked about how much he loved it.

There was evidently a perverse cock loving, dirty gentleman hidden away under all of the hyperactivity and Derek had set him free. God, if it stayed like this Stiles was going to be getting some all day, every day for the rest of his life.

He could see sex addiction on the horizon but he was willing to make sacrifices for the greater good.

It was totally worth it to shoulder that burden because as he'd just become very experienced in the noble art of intercourse- the benefits were incomparable.

Once they were clean and dressed and Derek finally left his poor, used ass alone the alpha took him to the kitchen to make him something to eat.

Stiles saw the clock downstairs and realised they were about to have an early breakfast like a really early- three in the morning- breakfast. Damn, so much sex had happened he'd forgotten that there was even such thing as time. Or beds that broke from too much fucking.

The alpha got to cooking something that smelt freaking mouth-watering and Stiles gingerly sat down on a stool watching his back with interest.

Okay fine his ass.

Alright, admiring his ass and also wondering if Derek would ever let him return the ass fucking favour one day, Jesus. So maybe his interest was a little perverted.

Dear God the sex addiction had already started.

He'd also noticed that Derek had not left his side since the bastard had stolen his virginity. He was keeping him close as if in constant need of a nearby body to screw. And he was a little surprised by the attention but he did not enjoy the random fluttering of the gooey, love sick tumour currently growing over his heart when the alpha did his weird stalker act.

Because apparently sex had to be an emotional thing. And they'd had a lot of emotion in the past couple hours. In many different emotional positions. Stiles was at emotion overload.

Derek pushed a plate over the table and he nearly cried out declarations of love when it was a burger and curly fries. He politely ignored the lack of fries on Derek's plate because that meant more for him and promptly began stuffing his face.

And damn could Derek make a mean burger. It was the perfect balance of grease and meat. And feeding the bottomless pit of a monster that was Stiles' stomach was a pretty important thing to do. He needed energy if he was going to be doing more sexing.

Only Derek was making it hard because he was doing his whole I'm a creeper dude who likes to lurk behind you even when you know I'm there thing and he was trying to stuff his face whilst also being prepared for a werewolf sex attack.

Derek's breath on the back of his neck had the opposite creeper vibe effect eliciting a flare of heat, twisting up across the skin of his neck until it reached his face. He felt like he was being stalked by a lion or a jaguar only having the slightest inkling there could be something prowling before they pounced.

And the Derek pounced.

Only technically it was more of a man grab jerking Stiles into his body while his mouth immediately came down over his neck.

He didn't think he was still in his heat haze because Stiles didn't feel like he was tripping major ballsack but Derek seemed pretty okay for round…

Holy shit what round was it now? He couldn't do anymore. Humans weren't made to have werewolf sex consecutively for several hot but oh sweet Jesus how could Derek keep going? hours. It was just not the natural way of things.

Werewolves had clearly beaten out humans in the sex-olution chain.

"The bed's broken," he garbled out leaning into the alpha machine for heavy intercourse and animal breeding as it continued to ravish his throat.

It was a pretty terrible excuse as impromptu Stiles excuses- for when he and Scott didn't do situations and/or anything good- went because Derek obviously had no qualms against screwing him in his father's front yard and not having a bed wasn't going to be an issue.

Derek made an odd sound in the back of his throat before releasing him, creepy, hulking, alpha assault and violation complete. Stiles turned as Derek walked away.

He didn't even think about not following grabbing the remains of his burger and shoving the rest of the fries into his mouth. Derek wandered into the garage purposely going to the bench table and sorting through his house of horrors bench top because clearly he knew what was and wasn't used for a lobotomy. Or to seriously injure. Or maim. Or chop through human bone.

But obviously some of those tools were meant for something dastardly.

"You're actually going to fix it?" he asked mouth half full with the final remains of his heaven burger.

Derek jerked his head and Stiles must have been getting better at interpreting robotic body language because he figured that meant yes. It was only after separating the tools he wanted from the clutter and setting them aside while Stiles watched and ate- because he was an amazing multitasker- that the alpha suddenly went still.

But like an- my werewolf instincts are tingling and bitches are about to die- kind of still where everybody just knew that a thousand ninjas would come crashing through the door with chainsaws and hand grenades and then shit would hit the fan.

Or maybe that was just a Stiles response.

He watched the alpha process something and was suddenly shocked by the sheer nakedness of raw panic rippling across his face.

"Where is it?" he demanded nearly yanking the table from the wall in his haste. Stiles jumped back from the unexpected swinging missiles that were the alpha's arms.

He couldn't figure out what he'd done now to make him crazy because he'd never seen Derek look that way before. He was tenser than he would have been with an actual cactus shoved up his ass and that was saying something.

Because he was looking for something, something that was important enough for him to actually look like he was upset. And that meant showing actual human emotions.

Something was missing.

And Derek was freaking out.

Which meant somehow he was to blame. Until he realised what Derek wanted and the he was in actual fact the cause for the alpha's meltdown.

"If you're about to blow your brains out because of that photo, not needed," he said. "I moved it over there."

He pointed to the safe not sharp points and ragged edges section of the bench and Derek whined.

Actually _whined. _And then he was snatching the picture up like it was his freaking precious and he was a serious cave dweller or something. Jesus he must have really liked his girlfriend.

And for some reason that made Stiles irritated because he was acting almost like a normal human being and he'd had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Thanks for nothing.

"I'll leave you and the photo alone together. I'm sure you and Kate have lots to talk about."

Derek let out an unnatural sound whipping around to snap his jaws menacingly as he snarled, eyes red and burning into him. Stiles swore and stumbled back at the suddenly half transformed alpha advancing on him.

He seemed to control the change a second later because his teeth reverted back to normal and seemed less likely to rip him apart though he wasn't taking any chances. Stiles gasped out large breaths to get his heart rate back to normal because Derek had just scared him shitless and almost to the brink of an early death.

The alpha scented the air, reacting to something before he was pushing Stiles onto the cold stone of the floor.

"What? W-what?" he wheezed already panting heavily as he huffed out each individual breath. Jesus was he having a panic attack?

And then the alpha pushed him away until he was on his knees facing the wall with Derek already kneeling behind him.

And holy fuck if that didn't immediately make him hard as stone and sweating out all of his bodily fluids then he didn't know what would. Because Derek sex was initializing in five, four, three, two-

"You won't feel it so strongly this time," Derek promised already unbuttoning his pants.

Oh God. This was another face melting heat thing. And Derek was going for it again because Stiles was clearly exuding some werewolf fucking pheromones if the way the alpha just kept going after him was proof for how much of a sex magnet he was becoming.

His heart was slamming against his ribs and it felt more like a panic attack than another help me Derek with your big werewolf cock because I'm melting heat attack.

But seriously at one point Derek's wolf was going to have to accept that Stiles would never ever be able to give him pups. He was fairly certain that he didn't have a spare uterus handy inside him, or that he had been secretly hiding hermaphroditic qualities his entire life.

He was a dude, dammit.

And please and thank you would Derek please stop trying to get him pregnant then?

He groaned when Derek worked two fingers into him, no foreplay again because Stiles had heat problems and patience problems and mental problems and no uterus problems.

God where had Derek even gotten the lube? and Stiles was conscious enough to realise that he was potentially being prepared by grease or something even more disturbing freely available on the bench of horrors.

They were about to have sexy time in a garage. Stiles had no clue what Derek was sticking into him. He was hyperventilating feeling the need to pass out again and the alpha yanked him back into himself with a controlled thrust of his fingers.

Stiles made a guttural sound and felt the pressure against his chest ease.

"Breathe," Derek growled curling the fingers inside Stiles and making him shudder.

They'd gotten pretty damn good at the prepping thing after so many, many, many rounds of Coitus Royale and Stiles was barely given a moment to register that maybe he wasn't actually going completely cray cray and this was a totally natural biological reaction to being werewolf married to a stinking alpha before Derek was sliding inside him.

Oh.

And this was the reason why he put up with android cactus emotionally constipated alpha jerk, Derek Hale because he was a freaking sex God.

He made several undignified and downright embarrassing sounds as the alpha bottomed out pressing into the heat of his body so, so easily as if it was welcoming back a lost part of itself. Stiles took every inch of him greedily as if he couldn't live without more, couldn't survive without this fullness, this sense of just plain freaking right.

God, did you see what the feelings were doing to him?

He groaned when Derek jerked into him, starting a slick and purposeful pace that had Stiles performing some interesting vocal exercises as he moved with him, breathing easier and somehow reaching a sense of werewolf enlightenment.

It was unfair how reliant on Derek he was starting to become. The feeling of Derek moving against him seemed to keep him grounded and he lost himself in the heat of it, the slide of bodies, the press of hips and the short breaths.

It didn't take long.

Well, what he meant was it didn't take _him _long before he was coming apart clenching around the magical appendage of the alpha's that people should write some seriously badass haiku's to. He was fairly certain he was beginning to show some worshipping qualities already.

Derek's claws tightened on his hips and he followed Stiles soon after but not before some leisurely rocking of his hips that had Stiles squirming to get away feeling so thoroughly fucked sensitive.

"How do you know that name?" Derek asked quietly not even bothering to pull out as he pressed into Stiles collapsed frame holding most of his weight back to avoid a Stiles pancake.

"I told-you," he huffed out breathlessly. "I- read your file."

His dick seemed to twitch inside him and Stiles wondered if that was a silent threat for more knotting because after the first time Derek hadn't done it again somehow orgasming like a normal person should without a freaking ball sized knot super gluing them together.

And that meant that a) he was in control of when/ where and whom he wanted to jam his tennis ball sized knot into and b) that for some reason his alpha instincts didn't think Stiles was a good enough candidate for that.

But Stiles didn't want him to do that again. Of course not and there was no way he was asking Derek about it because then the alpha might actually knot him again. He was not sick, perverted or sexually depraved. He was just a teenager who happened to enjoy sex with a werewolf even if that meant that they were practically duck taped together for half an hour afterwards.

Derek bit gently on his shoulder and finally pulled away dragging his pants back on and basically pretending they hadn't just fucked on the garage floor. Stiles pulled himself to his feet, redressing himself and wincing when his knees complained at the pressure of supporting his full body weight for an extended period of sexy time.

"Why did you move it then if you thought-"

Derek trailed off his gaze oddly unguarded and strangely vulnerable.

"It was the only photo in the house," Stiles said shrugging. "I figured it was special, trust me I know."

The alpha's eyes narrowed. "You know because you searched the house when I was gone," he said and Stiles suddenly stopped breathing. "And you searched the garage. Don't you think I can't smell you on everything you touch? Did you find what you were looking for?"

Stiles glared at him knowing that Derek already knew the answer and just wanted to hear him admit it. "No."

Derek retrieved the photo again pushing it gently into Stiles' hand. He almost didn't want to take it feeling sort of like a jackass for being such a dick about it but his hand closed over it automatically. "Your investigative skills need some work," he muttered looking away. "That's my sister though I'm sure you already know her name."

Oops.

"Laura," Stiles breathed, shocked. He took another good look at the photo glancing between the siblings and finally noticing the resemblances. He'd just assumed it would be a long lost girlfriend and that was all that he'd seen upon first inspection. Derek was too hot not to have a girlfriend. And way too young to be gay werewolf married.

"But the other one," Derek paused over his words and Stiles suspected that _she _was the reason he'd almost wolfed out on him before. "Don't mention her again."

And that definitely put a spanner in his find out everything about Derek works.

"But-"

Derek abruptly pushed him into the wall pinning him there with his hands.

"Submit." He growled out in a deep non-Derek voice. "You're mine. Mine to breed. Mine."

Stiles swore. Because it was an off day when Derek didn't show dual personalities. And for some reason the wolf seemed to think Stiles was hiding a uterus on his person.

Seriously did he just give off the hermaphroditic vibe?

* * *

Eventually after more sexy times- for which Stiles had seriously lost the ability to count- Derek backed off and let him collapse onto the bed sinking into an exhausted state of unconsciousness.

His brain was too tired to even muster the cognitive ability to dream and he woke up pillowed on Derek's arm with some serious PDA action occurring from a hopefully sexually satisfied werewolf because their limbs appeared to be more tangled and locked together than a bunch of people in a game of twister.

Stiles didn't need to be a genius to figure out school was not on the agenda for today considering Derek still would not let him out of his sight and being in his sight happened to involve a lot- a whole freaking lot- of nakedness. And sex.

And the feelings, dammit.

He was just becoming very accustomed to the lazy press of Derek's morning wood against his ass when the doorbell rang.

And whenever that happened clearly it meant shit was going down. Derek's head snapped up like a dog at the sound of a high pitched whistle, instantly growling as he jerked to his feet.

Stiles rolled gingerly out of bed flinging a pair of pants in Derek's direction and throwing some on to cover himself. Dear God, he prayed it wasn't his dad coming to see why he wasn't at school already because he was pretty sure his dad had eyes and ears everywhere.

And he did not want to have the awkward- can't go to school because Derek and I have to screw all day or I'll shrivel up and die- conversation.

He hurried after Derek towards the door, at the last second grabbing his jar of mountain ash as a precaution because he didn't trust it not to be someone who didn't want to kill him.

Or Derek.

Or both him and Derek.

Or hell maybe even Jeeves because of his earlier villain status still pending and dear sweet Jesus Stiles hoped he hadn't been present in the house when they'd been breaking the bed last night.

Because he was very sure the sounds he had been making should not be heard by human ears for the sake of his own humiliation.

He jogged down the hall, eyes following the movement of Derek's hips because he was lewd and perverted and lecherous and clearly a burgeoning sex addict as he watched Derek stride towards the door before ripping it open.

Stiles nearly tripped over his own feet when he saw the lovely wakeup call of six or so hunters training their arrows on the alpha.

His alpha.

Who was so not finished screwing his brains out yet.

Stiles darted forward slipping in front of Derek as he snarled angrily one hand out in surrender the other pushing the wall of alpha muscle back as far as he could. He moved though that was probably because he was trying to manoeuvre around Stiles to begin eating some early morning hunter snacks not because he'd succeeded in holding him back.

"No," Stiles snapped. "I am so not watching a little werewolf human showdown this early in the morning."

Derek made a commanding sound in the back of his throat warm hands enclosing around his wrist to pull him out of the way. He figured since they hadn't fired at him yet it meant he was safe. Or safe-ish.

Safety was a pretty relative term anyway. Totally overrated.

Thank God Gerard was not among them although he spotted the whiteness of Chris Argent's killer smile straight away at the frontline of the pitch fork party. He slid around the door practically straight into the little hunter's crew before slamming the door in a very shocked, very pissed alpha's face.

It happens.

"I don't care how many the rogue's killed," he said. "It's not Derek. Wanna know how I know? Because they had a little werewolf tumbling match behind my car last night."

"It also took a young girl last night," Chris Argent said in a hard- no forgiveness - voice. "From her bedroom. A student at Beacon Hills. You sure you can live with the fact your alpha might have done that?"

Stiles did not want to think about exactly what had happened to her or the horrible fact that he may have walked past her in the hallways or seen this poor girl in class. The Argent's very brave and very stupid present gamble to attack the alpha at his house pretty much already signed her death certificate.

And Stiles had gotten pretty up close and personal with what the rogue alpha did to women.

Fuck.

"Derek was pretty busy last night," he snapped. "In case you haven't noticed it's heat week and that means we were screwing like rabbits. But if you don't believe me that he was here last night here's your proof."

And he held up the jar of fairy dust prepared to make the biggest lie of his entire life because he did not want to stuff Derek full of wolfsbane again or watch arrows get pulled out of his fine ass body. So if he had to bend the truth into a horizontal position he was going to freaking do it.

Mr Argent's eyes narrowed suspiciously but his weapon lowered a little and Stiles could see him weakening because even he knew what mountain ash could do.

"But you know what I don't give a damn what you think because I've had my hands full at the moment with a goddamn sexed up werewolf and I'm not taking any shit from anyone today especially some trigger happy werewolf hunters. So you can all back the freaking hell off and have a nice freaking day searching for the actual rogue werewolf who isn't currently about to murder me for shutting the door in his face."

The rant had been worth whatever painful repercussions would follow because Stiles had felt that he'd gotten his point across and that was what really mattered.

But he'd expected something, maybe a little love tap to the teenager who was being way too mouthy to a bunch of armed werewolf hunting veterans or some serious death glares and stink eyes.

What he hadn't expected was for Mr Argent to nod, lower his weapon, immediately followed by the rest of his little hunter gang before walking off taking the entire cavalry with him as if it was normal to obey angry teenagers. What the absolute fuckery was that?

He wondered briefly if this was a heat hallucination but after a few seconds passed and the sky didn't start shooting out rainbows or raining curly fries he figured he was pretty safe. And that maybe the hunters were the ones tripping.

Because nobody listened to Stiles, ever. Not even for the sake of their wolflihood, or humanity or for the sake of preventing stupidity. Nope. The words of Stiles Stilinski always fell on deaf ears.

Until today.

He blinked a couple more times before he realised that he was standing there all alone and even though it was a nice day with the sun out and burning his eyelids and everything with its morning dose of cancer he should probably go back inside.

Because there was a rogue on the loose and a posse of werewolf hunters looking for something to shoot and probably woodland creatures who wanted to rip him apart and dance on his bones.

And there was also a totally raging alpha waiting inside to devour him.

Inside bad.

Outside good.

Stiles figured he should just become a nomad drifting from doorstep to doorstep in the faint hope that people would let him take shelter under their porch for several decades.

He was becoming very invested in this plan when the door swung open and a scary as hell alpha was standing in the doorway eyes red, jaws enlarged and claws elongated; the whole I'm going to kill you shebang.

That was nice.

Derek twitched a little as if trying to hold in all the crazy was too much of an effort for him. There was a lot of that in Beacon Hills these days.

"Bed. Now."

Stiles didn't need telling twice, though his ass could have used some proper rest and relaxation. And that was not a euphemism for anything but the serious werewolf pounding his non virginity had taken last night. He shook the jar threateningly in Derek's direction as if in silent acknowledgement of the fact that he could still use magic fairy dust to universally cockblock him and moved back into the house.

"Aye, aye El Capitan," he said saluting him.

Derek didn't even bother to respond slamming the door shut and slinging Stiles over his shoulder nearly freaking running up the stairs in his haste to get them naked and sexing. Jesus. This freaking werewolf had stamina.

And the moon wouldn't reach its peak until Saturday night. That was basically a whole two days of a hell of a lot of freaking werewolf intercourse. Damn. He wanted a freaking medal after this.

Tomorrow night needed to hurry up and happen pronto because he was very certain his poor ass could not take any more.

And apparently his ass could take a lot.

A lot which encompassed a werewolf ass bite, a giant werewolf cock and a giant werewolf knot. And all within a couple of hours of sex torture.

Conclusion: Stiles was destined to become a seriously awesome prostitute/stripper/slave worker for werewolves.

Whichever paid better.


	9. Nao

blah, blah. words, blah :D

Enjoy

* * *

**Não.**

Stiles didn't know how he did it but somehow he survived the night.

Although thinking back on it he didn't actually know how he did. Maybe he'd always possessed the skills of a natural born fornicator and was now liberated by alpha seduction.

There had been a lot of sex.

But like a whole lot of sex- a stampede of sex, a runner's marathon of sex, a tour de Derek of sex, one huge giant sexcapade of sex. He was pretty damn freaking sure he'd broken his sexing valve or maybe just all of his sex organs. Something was definitely not going to function right ever again because he had been so thoroughly oversexed. And he still had more sexy times ahead of him until the full moon the next night.

Plus Derek was pretty unflinchingly unsympathetic about the whole thing and God, he just didn't appear to understand the concept of too much fucking, too much pleasure, too much freaking butt sex. Stiles was feeling a mixture of resentment and devotion to Derek's werewolf heat- must sex up teenagers- policy.

And he'd been right about the unpredictable thing. Derek just couldn't seem to permit him to expect anything. It was like fucking a different werewolf every single damn time. At times he was hard and rough, then slow and deep, then sensual and attentive, hell at one point he was so son of a bitch unyielding that Stiles had been forced- not really forced- to fuck himself on his alpha cock.

It was the sex addiction thing that was making him so lewd. He was not a closet raunchy sex artist, nope.

But no matter what way he took Stiles it wasn't enough. Derek just didn't back off. He kept going after him like he couldn't be satisfied with just one good fucking and then some serious spooning afterwards. The werewolf heat had convinced his inferior cognitive processes- which Stiles had been concerned about from their very first encounter- that he was in desperate need of being impregnated.

But Mother Nature said no. And just because Derek was a particularly stubborn breed of raging alpha werewolfness did not mean that she was going to permit men to start popping out babies. It just wasn't going to happen.

No.

Stiles. Penis.

Not. Uterus.

No. Just _no._

Seriously. Damn. And in his mission to endlessly fill Stiles with the entire pacific ocean of his werewolf sperm Derek still managed to keep that goddamn knot to himself, the bastard. Although Stiles clearly didn't want it, no freaking thank you.

And there had yet to be any facing each other- for the fantastically emotive Derek Hale, stoic constipated expressions experience- during said sexy werewolf time. He was a little frustrated with constantly inhaling the mattress instead of watching the alpha's face when he very expertly screwed Stiles' last remaining brain cells into oblivion. There was a further degree of sensuality in that position where Derek would have no choice but to look at him and acknowledge the feelings while they did the dirty deed that Stiles wanted to experience. In fact he wanted it a lot, regardless of Derek's laser eyes.

He knew that the alpha's emotions were too anally retentive for that level of intimacy between them despite the fact that he'd pretty much spent the whole day in his ass. Shit couldn't get more intimate than that. Or romantic. Clearly.

Stiles probably would have felt like some kind of crack whore about the whole thing- maybe a little more used than usual- if he hadn't enjoyed every second of it so much. Because Derek was a sex God and was going to cure all deadly diseases, end world hunger and stop all world werewolf wars solely with the power and might of his penis. It could happen.

And Stiles just craved Derek like he'd never desired anything before. Although at times he knew in the rational part of his brain the heat was to blame for that but what was a real kick in the balls was that most of the time it wasn't. And that was just fucking scary. The feelings were messing with his mind as well as his libido. And he was not okay with that.

And he was pretty certain at the way Derek was trying oh so hard to keep emotional distance like the werewolf cactus he was that he was experiencing the same fucking problem.

The feelings.

It was hard to keep his shit together when Derek literally just wanted to rut until the full moon ended because the mind blowing sex was bringing them closer, dangerously so. Stiles hoped the intensity of his heat was just an alpha thing because if this was the same thing Scott was going through- without his mate around to ease the burn- he knew it was worse than dying.

And from the way Derek was jumping his bones every five minutes he really didn't want to die. He just didn't want to let up his little screw Stiles to death plan, only pulling away to let him rest and/or curl up and consider his life choices whilst rocking away in a mental foetal position, his body going into emergency shutdown from the total senses and multiple orgasms overload. He'd passed out immediately when that had happened.

And when he came to a couple hours later after catching up on some major z's and energy replenishing mode was complete Derek was already hard and waiting because apparently he didn't understand the concept of pacing oneself. Although he clearly understood the concept of the boundaries of sleep and leaving sleeping people untouched.

Thank Jesus.

The last thing he wanted to wake up to was a werewolf sex party that his consciousness had not been invited to. He felt a little raw from all of the bestial lovin' and figured that he deserved a freaking Olympic medal for optimum sexitude when all this was over. It was a good trade for all of the traumatic and otherwise emotional scarring that was going to follow.

The moon's peak couldn't have come any goddamn sooner.

Derek was fucking him up against the kitchen counter because they'd left their little sex den to replenish their food supplies only to be distracted by the need to replenish said sexy times instead.

He was groaning into Derek's movements, heart beat thrumming against the countertop wildly when the alpha suddenly stopped. Dazedly Stiles was aware that the bastard couldn't possibly be finished and seeing as it was late in the freaking afternoon after their sex marathon the heat couldn't be over yet either.

So what the fuck?

"What?" He gasped distracted by the very unfulfilling lack of Derek stimulation. "What's going on?"

"It's…" Derek began pausing to lurch back into the blistering heat of him leaving Stiles a sweaty unsatisfied mess as he grunted out his appreciation. Oh yes, he could keep doing that now and forever, please.

Only that was all Derek felt the need to give him, the sick orgasm withholding fucker. Stiles was tempted to use his own depressingly helpful hand but the alpha had his arms pinned roughly against the counter and free motion was not a current possibility.

So he just had to wait around twiddling his thumbs, bent over the counter hard as fucking liquid nitrogen on contact with atmospheric pressure whilst Derek decided to have a leisurely picnic in his ass.

And there was no freaking knotting to make him feel better about the whole not screwing Stiles into the counter situation either, dammit. Double freaking standards. Stiles squirmed against him in a poor attempt to get some friction up in his business because he'd been close a few minutes ago and now he may as well have been watching an old couple playing tonsil hockey.

Except that little Stiles had not yet given up on Derek and the alpha still had his rapt attention. Goddamn why was the alpha withholding all of a sudden? Didn't he know of Stiles sex addiction? Was he trying to kill him?

"Don't stop, asshole" he snapped moving against the alpha in a very obvious effort to reclaim their sexy time because he was being cock blocked by the universe. And that was not cool, man. He was not okay with interruptions.

Derek snarled and a shudder ran all over his skin as he felt the alpha's voice vibrate through his chest. God, that would never cease to be fucking hot. Ever.

"It's your jeep" Derek grumbled against the skin of his back, mouth searing every freaking inch of him as he used his hands to force Stiles into stillness and he wasn't even experiencing the heat at the moment. Stiles was pretty sure that neither of them were.

It was just, well he'd gotten a good look at Derek's ass all muscled and toned as he'd walked in front of him to the kitchen and then he'd immediately started thinking about what it would look like taut and flexing as Derek pushed into him. Because unfortunately he hadn't been able to see past his little disturbingly ongoing, romance between his face and the mattress. Obviously he couldn't help but react to the suggestive Derek imagery in front of him because he had problems of a sexual nature.

In fact he had many problems.

Only listing them suddenly hadn't been a priority when he'd been abruptly pressed against the counter by- an undoubtedly responsive to lustful Stiles' thoughts- Derek. And then food was no longer a part of the equation, except for the fact that the alpha started screwing him against the kitchen table. Damn.

At least they'd made it downstairs. That had to count for something. But now he struggled to keep his head in the game seeing as they were at a sudden half time show or an we interrupt this program for an important news bulletin moment and he was still feeling extremely unsatisfied with the lack of movement.

"Don't care" he muttered still trying valiantly to move against the stupid stinking alpha who hadn't pulled out of him and was therefore attempting to prolong the torture with the hint of further screwing possibility. Stiles had had enough withholding for one day. "Dammit. Would you just- move or something?"

Derek growled in his don't start with me puny human, I will rip your flesh from your bones without blinking way and Stiles swore in frustration the sound quickly transforming into a moan as the alpha pulled away before slamming back in. Stiles hip bones jerked against the unyielding surface of the counter hard enough to bruise but he was too involved in what Derek had finally resumed again to notice.

"I can… hear your jeep" Derek continued in between shallow breaths as he thrust into him easily bringing Stiles to the edge again as if he hadn't just left him hanging for a whole freaking era.

The Stiles face to mattress experience was replaced by the face to counter experience instead and he was suddenly missing the mattress as his face was pressed against the cool marble. If Derek gave him a black eye because he fucked his face into the counter he was going to be seriously pissed. Because it was already an unspoken acknowledgement that he wasn't going to be walking right come school on Monday and he'd prefer not to add messed up face to the list considering all of the rough sex jokes he'd could already expect from Jackson.

Although he could counter with Danny sex jokes so he wasn't totally without ammunition.

But still.

Black eye? Smushed up face? Pass.

Derek seemed to realise this in another freakish display of psychic ability, releasing Stiles hands and wrapping his arms around his waist jerking him off the counter and flush against him. Stiles hadn't as yet practiced the chest to back touching experience and the sudden closeness and change of angle had him producing a cacophony of unnatural human sounds. One of the alpha's hands gripped his already sensitive hip bones, other hand sliding across one of his nipples as he slowed their sex party down to slow dance sex party speed.

He could feel him everywhere, more connected to the alpha as he supported him against his chest, moving in and out of him oh so slowly, the sliding of flesh too much. It was all consuming and he felt like he was fading away, fading into the alpha.

Derek's arms flexed around him, the power in his body suddenly overwhelming Stiles with the need to hit the gym in order to keep up. The alpha's lips found his neck again brushing softer than a touch against his skin and the unexpected intensity of his barely there caresses and the slow slide within him pushed Stiles over the edge.

He tightened viciously around Derek in retaliation for his earlier teasing, working his internal muscles to pull Derek down too and feeling the fullness within him as the alpha just let go. The alpha made a protesting sound at Stiles' sneaky manoeuvre and he felt extremely satisfied when Derek twitched within him, spent.

For like ten minutes or so until they'd be at it again.

Jeez.

Derek pulled away, Stiles shivering at the sensitivity following such a powerful orgasm and he knew it was because the alpha had held him in that unexpected way, pressed together so tightly as if he needed him so much closer too. And that was what made it all the sweeter. Stiles turned to him ignoring the fact that his own release was seriously coating his chest because sex addiction to a horny werewolf removed all inhibitions and made him one dirty motherfucker. Their eyes met and he was surprised by the intensity of the alpha's gaze.

It kind of freaked him out to be honest and he rubbed a hand awkwardly across his scalp in order to dispel the feeling of awkward emotion vomit between them. Because he could see the feelings in Derek's gaze and it was entirely freaking possible that he was shooting rainbows out of his own freaking eyelids.

Dammit that alpha was one good fuck. Or multiple, multiple fucks considering how difficult it was becoming for Stiles to stand up properly without shifting like a rod was buried in his ass- because he'd had something similar for two days straight and that was something his ass was not willing to forget easily.

"What about my jeep?" he asked quickly changing the subject and ignoring the alpha's burning look of smothered and internally imprisoned emotions plus consistent denial of the feelings.

"It's running in the driveway" Derek said shortly already turning away again, the repressed sex muffin, dammit. Stiles raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't it your job as big alpha man to go and check out weird shit like that?" he questioned. "What am I? Your sex butler?"

Derek frowned at him and Stiles was sort of impressed by the effort put into the expression. He did like to frown a lot in his grumpy werewolf asshole way.

"You should get dressed" he said not even concerned by the very obvious fact that danger was always freaking lurking around every corner in Beacon Hills and preferring to send Stiles out into the wilderness to investigate phantom jeeps all alone and un-alpha protected kind of sucked. Although at least he'd be fully clothed. God forbid he ever went into a dangerous situation- when a perfectly capable and terrifying alpha could do it himself- naked. Because that was not the way Derek did things around here. He had to protect Stiles from public nudity with every fibre of his being. Everything else was just background level of importance.

"Pretty sure that most of your werewolf fantasies involve me with my clothes off, pal" he responded and Derek didn't even deem it worthy of his angsty werewolf time to reply. Stiles rolled his eyes at his aloofness because he was pretty freaking sure having the dude's cock in his ass for two days pretty much killed it stone dead and therefore the alpha was trying to internalise his undying love by being emotionally stunted. Duh.

He just wanted to lock Derek and Freud in a room together and let them at each other for entertainment purposes and reasons. Because clearly his insanity was leaking out of him. He was riding that crazy train and bringing Stiles down with him. Just saying.

He found his discarded clothes fairly quickly irritated by his sexually defiled state but too damn curious to see his precious baby jeep- which had apparently developed the magical skill to start itself- to bother attempting to clean his sexed up body. Although how his jeep came to be doing that at Derek's place which was pretty much on the fringe of Beacon Hills Reserve was certainly a mystery.

Unless of course the woodland creatures had figured out how to hotwire a jeep and that was something all people should see in their lifetime regardless of the possibility of the sight luring him to his death.

"Has my jeep developed the power to run by itself?" he called out. "Or should I just expect to see some random stranger defiling her?"

Derek did not reappear to offer his opinion and Stiles assumed that was because he was having a meltdown from the too much feeling sex and was currently rocking in some corner of his big ass house somewhere.

"If this is a trap meant to kill me you'll be known as the worst werewolf husband ever!" he called out collecting his keys from where he'd dumped them in his- holy hell an alpha's about to sex me up but my virginity makes me slightly reluctant- haste the day before.

This was such a horror scene from a movie. It was like the beginning of the end. He was about to walk into hell and all because Derek sucked ass at being a big alpha boyfriend protector. Wishing desperately that he had scissors to throw again he scowled and walked to see what kind of supernatural creature was going to attack him now. He was going to bet ghosts.  
It felt like an apparition and haunting kind of day.

But then it really was a haunting and ghostly apparition kind of day when he walked outside and saw nobody there but his jeep, the engine humming away in a creepy- I've missed you, master- way.

He did the whole suspenseful 'who's there?' internal monologue as he looked around Derek's house expecting some seriously terrifying beast to pop out of the ground and gnaw his foot off of something. But when a few minutes passed of him only shifting his weight from foot to foot and holding his car keys like they were a formidable weapon he figured he had just been the victim of a serious prank.

Or a haunting.

Not a particularly good haunting either. Where were the shadowy figures? The rattling chains? Or those sort of constipated moaning sounds? It was like the paranormal inactivity.

Or perhaps his jeep was beginning to possess life and could drive of its own violation like Herbie or something. And all that meant was that he was going to have to invent a hell of a freaking better name for his jeep than Herbie.

The batmobile was certainly on the table. He figured he should take some time to really consider the said awesome name of his demon car that could drive on into the night, rumbling ominously as it rode through the forest transforming the less than friendly woodland creatures into road kill. Perhaps this could be the true opportunity to kill his enemies. Although most of his enemies happened to have supernatural talents that prevented easy death by batmobile- so maybe not.

Sighing to himself he went over to said demonically possessed car and opened the driver door expecting it to be rigged to explode or something and feeling only slightly disappointed by the anticlimactic nothingness of the very nothing that happened when he did. Frowning he stuck his keys into the ignition and then switched off the car. He felt under the wheel to see if he could find any cut wires but due to not possessing any real mechanical skills whatsoever he couldn't quite make the distinction between haunting and hotwiring.

Deciding that Derek was definitely a dick and that maybe weird shit was going down he shut the car door expending a ridiculous amount of effort in locking it which would prove pointless when said demon car drove off on its own free will. Maybe his jeep had bonded with the rogue when it seized its bumper- kinky- and then ripped off its door- sort of like undressing it really- and then basically marking it with it claws.

Conclusion: his demonically possessed car was a sadist and enjoyed the rough treatment given by psychotic rogue werewolves.

Although it would still be locked so that would prevent his defiled-with-evil car from letting strangers inside it. And then that thought just turned into yet another possible sex-capade and Stiles wondered if Derek wanted round one billion already because he had problems and Derek's sexable body solved said problems. But only with constant doses. Say a million freaking times a day dosages. Yeah, Derek was officially his new prescription of Adderall.

He could live with that.

He looked around the area suspiciously again because he didn't quite trust the haunting to be over just because he'd switched off and stopped the flowing of life juice in his demon car. And that's about when Gerard joined the party.

And then it became a real fucking haunting.

Stiles started violently when he spotted the old timer a couple miles away standing in the woods, watching him. He was completely alone, no werewolf hunters, no blinding smile son, not even a freaking weapon. And Stiles had never been scared so shitless in his life. It felt like he'd just melted out of the trees except the crazy mofo old dude had probably been standing there for a few minutes watching him like some kind of pseudo paedophile in an excellent depiction of creeperdom. They stared at each other from across the –thank fuck there was- distance between them and it felt like a freaking eternity passed in that one disturbing and nightmare inducing look.

And then the man freaking smiled and it was definitely the psychotic one before a killing spree kind of smile and Stiles felt all the good after sex shock feelings of just getting seriously laid evaporate. He was too shocked to do anything but stand there uselessly, silently praying for the ability to smite his enemies from the sky or sick his demon jeep on them. Although no doubt Grandpa Argent was responsible for the said jeep coming to life situation because he felt the need to drag Stiles outside so he could stare at him and generally freak him out.

Oh God his dirty psycho murderer hands had touched his baby. She needed to be thoroughly cleaned. Or lit on fire to be put out of her despoiled misery. She had been corrupted by old man evil and that was a horrifying prospect.

And then said old timer waved at him as if it was perfectly normal to lurk in the woods around Derek's house and touch Stiles jeep in the bad touch way and carry no weapons and still manage to look like he'd killed some serious shit already with his bare hands. Fuck. And Stiles understood the gravity of the level of sick fucker he was dealing with because that was so not what normal people do. Normal people do not stalk through the trees like some kind of non human, non-geriatric predator. Normal people did not watch teenage boys from far away and smile in an uber creepy fashion.

And they sure as hell didn't _wave._

Conclusion: Grandpa Argent was the sickest fucker to ever exist in sick fuckery and his inclination towards the utterly psychopathic had nothing to do with his possible dementia.

The sudden appearance gave him a very bad feeling, like an intuitive sense that bad things were going to happen like an I-see-dead-people level of bad. Oh fuck.

He didn't mean to do it. But old man creeper had made an uninvited and highly dramatic entrance and he forgot there was a werewolf with super badass hearing nearby as he spoke the serial killer Argent's name.

He'd barely even gotten the word "Gerard" past his lips before Derek was on him. Only he was soaking wet and maybe a little bit gloriously naked as he reappeared from his impromptu drowning the feelings in the shower session that Stiles was becoming increasingly familiar with himself.

"What did you say?" Derek demanded and he realised maybe the alpha had been paying more attention to his little encounter with his phantom car than he'd originally thought. Jesus how fast had he moved just to get outside? And oh my God was Gerard checking out Derek's naked fine as hell self, right now? He was clearly some kind of deluded, wack job stalker. He was the goddamn conductor of the crazy train. And he'd clearly taken a freaking detour off the rails if showing up near Derek's house to wave and smile like a lunatic was any indication.

Stiles' eyes flitted back to the spot where he'd last seen the devil incarnate only to realise the freak of nature was no longer present- his demonic self clearly being called away to drink the blood of his enemies or something equally satisfying. Derek was pressed against his body protectively but Stiles thoughts immediately took residency in the sexually depraved gutter that was now the home of his every waking thought. Damn, alpha sexy man. Who was naked. And pressed against him.

And he was a teenage boy. With needs, dammit.

He hesitated briefly wondering exactly what he should say here because a selfish part of him wanted Derek to himself and not combing the woods like some kind of canine sniffer dog looking for possibly loopy old men. But the expression on the alpha's face was a pretty freaking clear warning of don't you dare even try to lie to me, Stiles and he figured the truth couldn't kill him.

Maybe.

"You mean Gerard Argent?" he asked. "My crazy ass principal who may or may not have implied at one point he'd be pretty satisfied with your grisly death? The man out to avenge the untimely demise of his daughter which may or may not have been your fault? That Gerard?"

Derek snarled pulling Stiles away from his jeep and back towards the house by lifting him into the air. He made a stifled sound of protest as he was unceremoniously pressed into Derek's chest though he didn't actually attempt to escape- it took very little effort for him to not protest chest to face contact. Because Derek was fine and he was quite okay with his face being pressed against every inch of his naked and delectable body. But that was not on the agenda at the moment. He was about to be seriously grilled. And that was not a sexual euphemism for anything, nope.

"Yeah that was him" he clarified as Derek slammed the front door shut as if to lock out said crazy people intent on destroying them. He was even a little pleased at the way Derek's grip seemed to tighten on him at his words as if holding him closer could keep him safe. Stiles suddenly wanted his jar of ash very badly if at least to blind the old man with. Ash in your eyes was definitely not the nicest of feelings. Although technically his level of creepy could be defined as something supernatural so maybe he could use the ash against him after all.

"And he waved" he continued as Derek carried him up the staircase- back to the shower perhaps? Or more sexy time? "And smiled. And it wasn't remotely creepy." The alpha didn't say anything but he was seriously worked up, he could tell. "I think that clearly means he likes me or something, at least enough to hot wire my jeep. We should invite him over to dinner next and see how that blows over"

Derek made an irritated sound putting him back on the ground in the bathroom before slamming his mouth over his own. Stiles grip on his keys jerked and they flew out of his hand in surprise. He'd expected some neck gnawing action not some seriously swoon-inducing mouth to mouth contact instead.

Derek didn't kiss him very often so it usually rendered him to a vegetable level of brain shutdown afterwards. Maybe that was the alpha's intention. He could deal with that. Or maybe the feelings were just getting too strong and he could resist the wanton sexitude that was Stiles Stilinski anymore. Because that seemed more likely. The alpha tore his mouth away mid tongue ministrations and Stiles felt the need to hit him over the head with his jar of ash. Too bad he'd already hidden it from a not to be trusted alpha.

"I thought we agreed we weren't going to talk about her again" the alpha said frowning as his fingertips slid across Stiles' arms not quite gripping but enough pressure to convince him that he wanted more as he efficiently removed his clothes.

"There was no agreement" he said groaning when Derek seized his hips manoeuvring him into the shower as a silent communication that he clearly smelt like death and needed to be thoroughly cleansed of old man presence. "I signed no binding contract"

The alpha snorted, quickly turning on the nozzle and blasting them with warm water. Stiles figured it was about time to resume generic sex position and moved to twist around, presenting his ass to the alpha but Derek's hands prevented him. He pulled Stiles against his chest and suddenly there was no man sex.

There was hugging.

Derek was goddamn _hugging _him. What the actual fuck? Was this a breakthrough? Had he discovered the power to use emotions? Stiles couldn't breathe. Not because he was so thoroughly pressed against the alpha but because of the level of the feelings washing over him from this frightening level of closeness.

It was like a feelings detonation. His heart raced against the steady beat of Derek's which he could literally feel because they were so tightly pressed together. Hugging. Next thing he knew they'd be freaking cuddling next. And the feelings no doubt were going to enjoy that if the way he'd been suddenly transformed into some sort of marshmallow from a freaking alpha hug revealed anything.

He didn't know what to do with himself. Suddenly he had too many awkward limbs and not enough awkward words to say to fill the silence. The goddamn comfortable silence because they both seem to seriously enjoy just holding each other. What the fuck was this? Days of our lives?

He shuddered at the brush of Derek's fingertips against the dip of his lower back but it was a caress with no promise of sexual stimulation behind it and the fact that he had no concerns about that was just freaking crazy. The feelings had possessed them both. It was the end of everything. Apocalypse feelings.

Derek's hands continued to roam across his skin and the fact that this was as much foreplay that Stiles had ever gotten was a sad impression of their very lacking patience during sexy time. He could sense the feeling tumour over his heart swelling considerably in size and that was not a good sign at all because feelings would be the death of them. He just knew it. Derek's breath skimmed across his neck and he repressed the urge to nuzzle his face against the alpha's chest. His hands were trapped between the urgent press of their bodies and he didn't like the lack of reciprocation he was permitted.

It was always Derek touching him and never the other way around. He fought briefly to free his hands and when the alpha loosened his grip to let him he nearly swallowed his own tongue. Because the alpha was going to _let _him hug him. It was like some kind of miracle except for the lack of religious statues crying out rivulets of blood nearby but that would probably have killed the mood_._

His hands tentatively crept around the alpha's body before resting on his back unconsciously pulling him closer. He was satisfied to notice Derek's heart beat slightly faster in response. He could feel something was going down with cactus man like maybe there wasn't all robot beneath his wiring, a little bit of a human left inside the wolf. His heart beat quickened, thoughts whirling wildly through his drug addled brain as he considered the magnitude of a hug from emotionally retarded alpha Derek Hale.

This was some monumental shit. Although it could have been to do with the full moon and the wolfy need to snuggle or something. He preferred to believe that his sex psychiatry was reaping results.

Emotional results. Of an emotional nature.

_Emotion. _Derek.

Feelings. Two things he would have never believed could exist in the same room together after their clearly bitter divorce several years ago. He would surmise irreconcilable differences to be the cause. But seriously Derek wanted him to be his cuddle buddy? It was a sad thing that it made him feel so good and in need of defribrillation to stop his heart from pumping so goddamn fast. Hugs should not possess this level of power over him.

But it was Derek. Hugging him.

He just couldn't understand how it was possible. And he didn't want to ruin the alpha's progress but he knew this was the only time he had the slightest possibility of asking certain questions and getting answers. And he really wanted to know if psycho grandpa was really just avenging grandpa. And maybe right now Derek would tell him.

"Did you kill your ex-girlfriend?" he asked quietly.

The question wasn't destined to be as blunt in his head and he winced when Derek stiffened nearly kicking himself because he was basically admitting he thought the alpha was a psychotic killer and that was a little awkward.

"No" he replied just as bluntly and Stiles could already feel him pulling away- that wall coming up again. Dammit. The cactus alpha was already relapsing. "I didn't"

Stiles just stood there a little longer feeling the water rush over him, the warmth of Derek's body giving him all sorts of feely feelings.

"Who did?" he asked.

Derek literally pulled away this time removing Stiles hands from around his waist and stepping back and that made it clear that the conversation had very much just ended. Or died, or been murdered in its sleep by an angry alpha. He tried not to let the disappointment flicker across his face because he really wanted to know everything about him.

And Derek was making it as impossible as male pregnancy.

He sighed feeling colder without the alpha around to give him stupid feelings and he tried to get his shit together and convince his emotional state to go and kill itself already because it was not required thank you.

"My uncle" Derek volunteered suddenly and Stiles jumped having assumed he'd already left the room. Psychical distance seemed the instinctive response to any sort of flicker of Derek emotions.

"And then I had to kill him."

Stiles was hardly surprised about the murdering thing. Derek was definitely a killing people that kill my girlfriend kind of guy. Maybe that's why he didn't have many relatives or girlfriends left.

"Because he killed your one true love?" he asked trying not to tease but being a jackass about it anyway.

Derek snarled and suddenly he was back again pushing Stiles into the shower wall.

"I didn't love her" he growled looking very murderous at the present moment. Stiles tried to pretend he wasn't suffering an internal aneurysm. "He'd gone rogue and killed her because she deserved it. But I had to put him down"

Stiles didn't really know what to say. Was he meant to congratulate him on the murdering? Why hadn't all of this information been placed in the original file? And should he not be getting aroused at Derek's roughness?

All important questions really.

"Oh" he said. "Uh… that's nice"

Probably not the best response to an on edge werewolf but it was the best material he could come up with on such short notice.

"Get dressed, the moon will reach its peak in a few hours" Derek muttered releasing him despite the fact that Stiles was very ready for another round.

He frowned. "Shouldn't I not be wearing clothes because the moon's about to reach its peak?" he asked resisting to urge to bring attention to his half hard cock because with carefully disturbed fantasising he could make himself softer than watching a fat naked man dance. Not that he'd seen that but he could still imagine.

Derek kissed him roughly on the lips before walking away leaving a nice view of his naked ass. Stiles was fully appreciating said view when the alpha called over his shoulder.

"You're going to need all the rest you can get"

And because he was a horny teenager with the feelings and an incredibly talented sex God of an alpha as his sex buddy he was very, very, very okay with that.

* * *

He slept for the rest of the afternoon totally exhausted by such a sex-ventful day. He wasn't bothered by any sudden onslaughts of heat and he wondered if Derek had control over it somehow if the way it had just switched off at his command was enough evidence. Or maybe it was just incredibly sated from so much sex. He was feeling that sensitive ache of every muscle in his body and figured if he felt that way now Derek was definitely doing something right. Something very right.

He seemed to know immediately when the moon reached its peak because he was abruptly wrenched out of his shattered sleep, covered in flames. He groaned and rolled over onto his back already cupping himself through his pants to try to ease the ache between his legs. It wasn't panic attack inducing anymore and he didn't think his face was melting off but that didn't stop the heat from being so freaking unbearable.

The touch only made it worse and he jerked his pants off, yanking them down his legs to free his very confined erection as he removed his underwear. And then his hand was already there fisting himself slowly and he hummed in appreciation at the burn of sliding flesh.

It wasn't enough but it was better than nothing and he continued to jerk off in the alpha's bed too lost in the haze to feel embarrassed. He didn't realise that Derek was in the room fully clothed and watching him until he heard the soft growl accompany the moan that escaped his lips. Shocked he dropped his hand away and moved to sit up knowing exactly who his body ached for and very keen to jump his goddamn bones.

But Derek was already crowding against him pushing him back down.

"Keep going" he said eyes watching him intently and Stiles swallowed the urge to orgasm from those words alone. He could feel the heat increasing exponentially and Derek was still clothed, dammit.

He wasn't too good at following simple instructions and instead jerked forward like an attacking animal, seizing the folds of the alpha's shirt and yanking him down as his legs simultaneously wrapped around Derek's hips like some weird sort of clingy monkey. Derek groaned into the kiss Stiles forced against his mouth clearly disappointed by Stiles lack of showmanship but he could clearly accept a compromise. Stiles grinded against the press of Derek against him, eyes fluttering closed at the sensation because it was too damn good and he needed more or he was going to burn up.

He moaned into Derek's mouth when he struggled with the alpha's pants, the alpha's hands cupping his ass and lifting his hips further to press them harder against his own. He pulled away briefly to pull off his pants whilst Stiles huffed out breaths like he was an asthmatic. He watched Derek remove his underwear revealing his wonderful werewolf cock that was going to cure Stiles' brain meltdown and he hummed at the sight moving to get on his knees and into optimum werewolf sex position.

Only Derek reached out a clawed hand and stopped him. The heat of his touch kept him borderline sane before the alpha was pushing him onto his back so that they were facing as he hovered over him. Stiles heart rate increased at the sudden change because they'd never had a round quite like this. He wasn't used to the intense level of deep and probing werewolf eye contact.

He shivered as Derek's hands slid across his skin, somehow finding the time to caress him. Stiles was rambling at this point, jumbling his words together in a confusing plea of just plain want. He may or may not have been begging. Because dammit, he wanted Derek inside him now.

The alpha understood him, prepping him quickly and ignoring Stiles abrupt swearing and cursing as he squirmed against his fingers- wanting more. His head was twisted to the side having given up on Derek's gaze and knowing it was too much for him to handle at the moment. The alpha removed his fingers and Stiles immediately protested when it wasn't instantly followed by the press of his cock inside him. The alpha's fingers slid across his jaw turning his head back to face him.

"Look at me" he whispered and Stiles gasped wildly twisting his gaze until he was staring into Derek's eyes.

Oh God. It was too much. And then Derek was sliding into him. He swore violently at the different angle growing accustomed to it in an amount of time that was positively sinful. His head cleared almost immediately and the blazing inferno seemed to settle into a softer flame. He was definitely suited for werewolf prostitution/stripping/slavery.

Although with the amount of the feelings these days his options for werewolves to perform these acts with were sorely limited. But he doubted he'd have it any other way. And then Derek started moving and he was very certain he'd never be doing this with any one else ever so help him God, amen.

It was so much better this time and so much worse. He couldn't seem to handle Derek's eyes as he fucked him slowly, so concentrated that he knew he'd have to look away eventually before he burned out his soul.

The intimacy of the day was getting to him and the way Derek was looking at him now, God Stiles couldn't seem to get control of the feelings. They seemed to be growing at an unbelievable rate, spreading within him like a disease he couldn't shake.

It was heady and powerful. And Derek's eyes. God. They were on fire as if he was being consumed from the inside as well. It was too much, all too goddamn much and Stiles opened his mouth to speak three little words that would ruin him. Would ruin them both.

And that realisation was enough to tip him over the edge almost as soon as they'd begun, tightening on Derek inside him as the alpha continued to stare so intently. They both groaned, the alpha following him soon after and the heat was too much, the press of skin burning him from the inside out.

His orgasm ripped through him, tearing a sound out of his throat which almost instantly turned into an animalistic howl that echoed through the room and off into the distance. He froze, stunned by the sound, eyes flitting immediately to Derek in confusion. Because what the hell was that? He was fairly certain that he hadn't just howled in some pathetic attempt to over exaggerate Derek's sexing skills and the alpha certainly hadn't made the sound. Stiles could recognise the alpha's howl and that he not been it. It had just been incredibly freakish timing.

Some kind of sick coincidence. Right?

The sound of Derek growling brought him out of his post coital haze pretty damn quickly because it wasn't his normal you're so annoying I might kill you growl it was his I'm a scary predator so get off my lawn growl.

A territorial sound; possessive. And that could only mean…

"The rogue" he gasped shuddering as Derek slid out of him, shoulders hunched and already shifting into a dominating crouch over him like Stiles was a bone that he wanted to bury and sharing was not an option.

He didn't need to ask to know the heat was finished. His head felt clearer than it had been in days and he was experiencing the sudden onslaught of clarity in wonder quickly distracted by possible murderous rogues lurking outside.

Stiles fervently hoped that the rogue had found crazy Gerard Argent and they had quickly been the death of one another in a super charged vengeance match. It would certainly solve all of his problems.

His hands slid over Derek's arm without thought, gripping as if to prevent a werewolf showdown in their front yard. Because that would certainly wake the neighbours- that is the woodland creature neighbours and they were not to be trifled with seeing as they weren't from a Disney movie where their mission in life was to cook and clean and wash dishes. The creatures in Beacon Hills Reserve were scary as fuck. And they had an even scarier rogue werewolf and an alpha about to join them if Stiles didn't do anything.

And he had to do something. _Now._

Derek pulled away without even noticing Stiles' touch and he figured that meant instinct had taken over- the bloodlust instinct to fight for and claim his territory. And to probably maim, kill and tear limbs from bodies and whatnot- generally turning the evening into a total gorefest. He scrambled off the bed darting towards the door to block the big scary alpha man who was currently about to kill some serious bitches.

"Derek, stop" he commanded holding his hands out in a warding gesture but the alpha just kept coming.

So naturally he panicked.

And panicking always led to stupid fight or flight responses for which he was incredibly lacking at performing well in both areas. He made a strangled sound reaching SOS level of emergency status as he tried to think with a scary as fuck alpha bearing down on him.

The flight instinct unfortunately didn't win out.

And that left…

He'd already swung before he could consider less life threatening plans, desperation outweighing self-preservation as he punched the alpha in the face.

The alpha. He'd just _punched _the alpha in the face.

Oh fuck. And it freaking hurt.

He cradled his now throbbing hand into his chest, crying out a stream of profanities as Derek staggered back a couple of steps. The alpha was a little dazed, a hell of a lot surprised but not stopped. It seemed like nothing could stop him. He spotted his lacrosse stick leaning against the wall, jerking forward and seizing it with his only good hand whilst Derek was distracted.

And then he was swinging again, wincing when it connected. Then the alpha went down, his body making a booming crash as it hit the floor. Stiles didn't think he'd knocked him out completely but he'd bought a little time and that was all he needed. Because werewolf death matches were not his forte and he did not feel like watching anyone die especially somebody as good at screwing people into oblivion as Derek Hale.

He glanced at Derek's form sprawled across the floor and tried to keep the guilt internal for the time being.

"Love tap, love tap" he muttered as if to justify giving his werewolf husband a major smackdown.

Although he was feeling pretty damn proud that he'd managed it. He didn't pause to check on him dropping his makeshift weapon and using one hand to pull on a pair of boxers on the ground. Then he was running out of the room, heart pumping and ready to stop a crazy ass rogue werewolf. He would have locked Derek in the room to gain some extra time but the door was still broken from the alpha's- eager to sex him up- arrival the day before so he just figured he'd have to be freaking fast.

He rushed to the guest room with the trunk of werewolf related weapons and such grabbing a jar of ground up wolfsbane as a precaution before sprinting towards his secret hiding place for his secret werewolf weapon jar of magic ash. He could feel Derek's semen slipping out of his ass as he moved, trickling slowly down his legs and he tried his best to ignore the sensation even if it made him feel the need to visit a church to be thoroughly cleansed of his many freaking sins.

It took less than a minute but he didn't have much time before Derek would be on his ass with a serious need for some- Stiles breaking- retribution. He ran outside wincing briefly at the biting cold against his practical nakedness as he hurriedly began sprinkling the magic fairy dust around the edge of the house. He wanted to punch himself for not doing it after the creepy old man stalking experience that had occurred earlier but it was too late to regret not being consistently paranoid. He'd barely made it halfway around the house before the howling was much closer. And it wasn't Derek.

"Oh God, Oh God, fuck" he gasped trying to unscrew the cap of his wolfsbane powder jar whilst simultaneously spreading his dust of magic werewolf preventing barrier.

He made it.

Just barely finishing closing off the circle before the rogue was bearing down on him. He yelled and fell backwards on his ass dropping the wolfsbane jar so that it smashed against the ground spilling out everywhere. It was like an explosion of purple and it spread unbelievably quickly, the light breeze snatching it away and scattering it universally in the wind. He only just managed to keep the jar of mountain ash in his grip. It had been a close call.

The rogue seemed to dig its snout into the ground, whining softly as it paced the edge of his ready made, werewolf repellent shield unable to breach it and murder him for his separation of wolf and demon jeep. Or for the baseball bat thing. Or maybe for the alpha kicking it's ass thing. Or the interrupting it murdering someone thing.

There were many reasons why it wanted to murder Stiles. And then the roar of an enraged alpha reached his ears and Stiles added another potential murderer to the list. He scrambled to his feet, swearing as the alpha nearly tore the front door off its hinges in an effort to get outside and throttle Stiles until he no longer possessed an ass to be kicked.

The rogue snarled and they both rushed at each other, intent to kill evident in their body language moving like a couple freight trains in a game of chicken only stopping their werewolf attacks when they reached the barrier keeping one out and trapping the other inside. The rogue howled in frustration and Derek snarled threateningly as they both mirrored one another's movements. But they were unable to breach the little line of ash separating them.

Stiles tried not to look too smug. Because he was a badass mediator preventing fast paced and otherwise awesome werewolf battles. He snorted when psycho rogue's claws tore at the dirt in a meagre representation of what he would have tried to do to Derek's pretty face. And Stiles had totally prevented that. He was completely satisfied with his ass kicking badassery. A human getting the upper hand over a rogue _and _an alpha was just short of legendary. He couldn't wait to boast to Scott. Or maybe just rub it in his face a lot.

They'd totally just been Stilinski'ed. And Stiles was now the supreme leader of the universe.

Only not for very long because the sound had alerted the alpha to his presence and suddenly he was very, very not living anymore. Derek snarled moving all up in his grill like nobody's business, forcing him further away from their new pet rogue several metres away and in desperate need of meat and bodies to kill.

Maybe a bone too.

Derek seized the front of his shirt jerking him right up close and personal with his snarling, incensed face which was flushed with his macho werewolf rage. Stiles mouth fell open at the flash of arousal that tore through him at the heated look.

"You punched me" he snapped. "In the face"

Stiles figured now was the best time to discuss their relationship issues and ignore a murdering rogue werewolf which was still pacing angrily outside the circle looking cheated of a damn good meal where Stiles was probably said meal.

"It was more of a love tap" he promised. "And is your face made out of freaking metal or something because I seriously think I broke my hand"

"And the lacrosse stick?" Derek snarled sounding unbelievably pissed, tugging his face closer so that their noses were almost touching. "What the hell was that?"

Stiles licked his lips. "Maybe that was a little personal" he admitted and Derek swore violently looking like he was going to smack a bitch up indeed. And Stiles would be the bitch. Right.

"Well you bit my ass!" he cried struggling stubbornly against the alpha's grip. "Now we're even"

The rogue howled again as if affronted by the lack of attention it was receiving currently and Derek's bones seemed to crack and shift in warning but he remained his usual cactus, scowling self. Stiles rolled his eyes. Jeez, werewolves were so goddamn testy.

"Break the circle" Derek commanded watching the rogue intently as it moved erratically still attempting to get past Stiles' clearly branded no-go zone.

"No" he replied managing to fold his arms despite the alpha practically holding him in the air.

"Stiles" he growled out, a warning in his dangerous voice.

But Stiles was not budging. They could kill each other some other time for all he cared but he was not going to let it happen when he had the power to stop them.

"No" he repeated hearing the conviction in his own voice and knowing Derek did too.

The alpha gnashed his teeth together in frustration. "Fine" he growled releasing his grip on Stiles and pushing him away, hard as if in disgust. And then he turned to the rogue werewolf and produced a thundering sound that boomed into the echoing silence of the night. It was an alpha sound, a combination of unholy rage and power with a promise of death.

Lots and lots of death. Like an entire annihilation of death. And Stiles did not think the full moon had anything to do with the sound. But it still scared him shitless.

The rogue bared its neck whining softly as it backed away, recognising the hierarchy of power that the lust of the moon had pushed from its mind seducing it to fight, to digs its claws into something and just kill. It put distance between them but it didn't leave and that was how Stiles knew this freaking rogue was going to continue to be a problem. And where the hell were the Argent's for major werewolf destruction already?

"Get inside" Derek spat and Stiles had never seen him so angry before in his life as he stormed back into the house, claws tearing into the doorway as he passed through it leaving deep gouges in the wood.

And he became pretty sure he was about to die.

Painfully.

Well at least now he wouldn't die a virgin. That was comforting.


	10. Nu

The feelings takes its first casuality :D

Enjoy!

* * *

**Nu.**

Stiles took several breaths of manly courage sparing a glance at their little pet rogue werewolf loitering at the edge of the woods at a reasonably safe distance and watching its confused pacing- that looked as if it were awaiting the command of its devil master- with unsettling interest. He wagged the jar in its direction as if to prove how impossible Stiles munching was at the present time what with a jar of mountain fairy dust at his disposal, a trunk full of some- majorly werewolf destruction inducing- wolfsbane and a particularly pissed off alpha that appeared to be surprisingly protective of Stiles ass.

Probably because he was screwing it.

And it was feeling a little- fixatedly werewolf screwed-tender at the moment now that his -I'm a badass who will stop evil with the powers of my mind alone and ignore my severely screwed ass- adrenaline had worn off. He turned his back on the rogue ignoring the piteous whining that followed afterwards and wondering how sick it would be on a psychotic scale of mental sickness to whip out some doggy treats and feed it to the evil manbeast.

Or maybe some Scooby snacks. They might be enough to convert him from raping and pillaging, pirate werewolf to cuddly and albeit goofy, puppy dog though Stiles didn't feel the need to get his hopes up too much. The power of Scooby snacks could only go so far. He heard Derek's growling reply to evil manbeast and figured he should start moving his ass pronto before they started another impromptu werewolf battle of interpretive dance moves because they couldn't cross the barrier and actually take the final step towards murdering each other.

And he was perfectly okay with the very lack of murder coming in the air tonight, oh Lord. In fact Beacon Hills had had enough murderous, murdering to ever murder in the sake of murder amen, and thus had filled their quota of murdering for all eternity. So he was really only performing a public service here preventing werewolf fight club taking place in Derek's front yard.

It was hard not to feel a little buzzed after so much death defying acts and Stiles briefly wondered if this could be an after effect of the heat. Or maybe he'd forgotten to take his medication again. Or maybe it was from the realisation that he was reaching higher levels of awesomeness in regards to whipping supernatural butt. Whatever it was he was twitching with exhilaration.

He just hoped he could transform said powers into the effort of properly training his alpha boyfriend and harnessing said boyfriend powers to defeat his enemies. Stiles hurried forward, hand enclosed tightly around his jar of ash, the other unconsciously tracing the deep gouges left in the doorway by Derek's claws as he moved inside. His heart thudded dutifully within his chest but he was relatively calm considering Derek was already well into his smashing furniture and growling ominously- serious lack of anger management- stage. It was a furniture crime scene.

Stiles wondered if he needed to flick him on the nose yelling bad dog or put him outside to think over what he'd done because that had been a perfectly good coffee table before the alpha had torn it apart. He bent down to pick up a stray table leg ignoring the rest of the wooden carnage as he did so.

"You know you're just gonna have to buy a new one," he pointed out trying not to wince when Derek started his angry, alpha man pacing again abandoning the wreckage of table butchery.

"I have to kill him," he barked looking like he was about to jump out of his skin. Stiles ignored his evident bodily malfunction and started heading towards the stairs pretty certain he would rather not continue to be covered in the sticky remains of their sexy time when most of it was still running down his legs. Because despite being thoroughly fucked by a werewolf- and he didn't even want to consider how that level of bestiality could affect him psychologically- he still had some standards. Standards of hygiene for one.

"You don't have to kill it," he pointed out. "You just want to because you have a tendency to slash throats and whatnot."

Derek stopped pacing right in front of him, too close for comfort and Stiles wondered if he was about to die, or be seriously ravished. It was a sad thought that both had definite possibilities of occurring. Derek certainly had some personality issues.

"Break the circle," he commanded but to Stiles it sounded more like a deranged plea to kill and rip something apart and that sort of bloodlust generally went hand in hand with the full moon. And it was safe to say he was not going to let that happen, no freaking thank you.

"Are you even in control right now?" he asked and Derek growled pushing him up against the wall without warning using enough force to drive the air from his lungs.

"Whoa," he gasped out feeling interest of a sexy nature begin to stir within him at Derek's actions. Jeez, would his mind ever leave the gutter? "Down boy!"

Derek's eyes were of a normal colour, his hands completely clawless but Stiles had never seen him look so wild. Only he was pretty damn sure it had nothing to do with running around in the woods and howling at the moon and eating rabbits and such. It was a completely different type of wildness and Stiles suspected it had something to do with the feelings.

Or at least some degree of his caged human emotions. And for Derek to be opening said can of feelings after keeping them repressed for years and years of werewolf stoicism and internal angst it was to be expected that he might feel the need to kill something. That something being his lovely, human chew toy who had sacrificed many o' things to protect his sex God boyfriend. Jesus, would the alpha ever understand the concept of gratitude?

And Derek just couldn't seem to acknowledge that Stiles was helping him out by preventing mass werewolf murder which made him the biggest jerk off to exist since the birth of Jackson Whittemore and that was just not freaking acceptable.

"I have more control than you think," the alpha snarled pushing Stiles' chest further into the wall as if he intended to push him through it and Stiles was not and would never be comfortable with the idea of being thrown _through _a wall. He was ready to argue that point and prove how very not in control Derek was because did the alpha not smell or see the amount of semen, hickeys and bruises he was covered in right now? Or the serious tsunami cleansing he would require to remove said evidence of their sexing?

There was no way that the alpha had control when it came to the bedroom and jumping Stiles' ass. He was in some serious werewolf denial here. And obviously it was his duty to point out these little sordid details as the alpha's human chew toy but he was wasting his breath because the wall of muscle pressing him against an actual wall problem, no longer existed.

Therefore he was able to slide down the wall he'd narrowly escaped being thrown through whilst pondering life choices and the fact that he should have broken his jar of ash on the alpha's stupid, fat head.

Because Derek was already gone. And if that didn't spell marital issues than he didn't know what did.

* * *

Stiles didn't see Derek all night. But he could contribute that to many different reasons. Said reasons being a) Derek was still in recovery from the effects of Stiles sexing and needed time to get the feelings back into control again. Or b) Derek's wolf was now heavily satisfied with all of their- screwing like rabbits- sexual encounters and instead wanted to go off and kill its enemies, maybe a little more Stiles screwing later.

Or c) Derek was super freaking pissed that Stiles had prevented him from getting what he wanted which was clearly to wet his claws with the blood of a psychotic, raping, rogue werewolf that had damaged his name in Beacon Hills. And not to mention his irritating, sexually available chew toy husband had insulted his werewolf control. And that was clearly a taboo subject.

Stiles had evidently crossed an invisible line and was now in the dog house so to speak, forced to endure sex withdrawal without a sex God alpha to ease the pressure. After showering and getting into Derek's bed, waiting alluringly for an alpha boyfriend who wasn't stubborn and a cactus and constantly pushing him away because the feelings freaked him the hell out.

But if he'd really expected the alpha to turn up for more hugging of an emotional nature he would have stayed awake the entire night waiting for him. And he hadn't because he was still recovering from heat week and the many physically demanding aspects that came with it. He'd been too exhausted to worry about being murdered by Derek in the middle of the night and fell asleep in a very depressing depiction of solitary bed confinement, the distant sounds of werewolf howls creeping into his dreams.

Derek was still AWOL the next day and after going outside to check on his force field of awesome it became pretty clear that not only the alpha had disappeared. The rogue was gone too. He was torn between rejoicing and feeling sickened that it was probably already murdering again. He regretted the golden opportunity he'd had last night because he'd intended to contact- not as psycho- Chris Argent to send out his little army of merry men to chop its freaking head off but he'd been too distracted by his own goddamn alpha problems.

Alpha problems that were seeping into his rest and relaxation- because you didn't die during heat weak and have become a man that partakes in sex of the masculine variety- Sunday. He'd hidden his magic jar again in a new hiding place, keeping an eye out for Jeeves and his sex demon master in case they felt the need to destroy his last line of defence against werewolfness.

Only now he was sprawled comfortably across the grass, leaning back against the wheel of his parked jeep as he looked out into the woods for anything else to add to the list of things that wanted to kill him. The sunshine was distracting and luring him into believing that things were all nice and dandy out in this neck of the woods with a rogue werewolf and demonised jeep and an emotionally stunted alpha gone MIA and some seriously questionable furry woodland creatures all crammed together in Beacon Hills Reserve.

It appeared to be a supernatural hotspot of death and monsters and other terror inducing nightmares. Not much of a tourist destination. And only people with a death wish went hiking in the woods without a shotgun these days. But even though he had a shitload of problems- creepy woods not even brushing the surface- he somehow managed to close his eyes and get some major vitamin D because his complexion demanded it, thank you and he was a man who took his tanning seriously.

And then he proceeded to laugh at the thought of him taking that shit seriously and felt his mood improve a little. Then he figured he may as well give Scott a call and see if he survived his own heat because what else were friends for? Scott's phone rang once before he answered.

"Stiles!" Scott's voice came through the phone. "You alive?"

He rolled his eyes. "No Scott you are talking to the spirit of Stiles Stilinski that has the power to operate technology through its many ghostly ways."

Scott made an odd sound in the back of his throat and Stiles figured that was as close to a laugh as he was going to get. "So how was heat?" he asked eager to exchange his own problems for simpler- my girlfriends parents want to kill me- issues. "Did you end up seeing Allison?"

"I wish," Scott said sounding a thousand times more disappointed than Stiles would have been describing his own heat because it had not relied solely on his own Stilinski stimulation like Scott's had. He had to admit he felt bad for his best friend experiencing his own maddening heat alone. But jeez, that did not mean he was offering an invitation. Ugh. Next heat he'd have to help a brother out and send Allison and Scott out of the country where they could do the nasty without fear of her dad pumping his best friend full of wolfsbane.

"We tried to meet up before the peak but her grandpa needed her help with something and she couldn't get away."

Stiles froze because at the mention of demon grandpa the sunshine basically shrivelled up and died. "What did he need help with? Other than proving how much ninety year old men can terrify adolescents by showing up in the woods outside their house?"

"Wait what?" Scott said. "He showed up at your?... Derek's house?"

Stiles felt his face heat up at his unfortunate foot in mouth, slip of the tongue. Because no matter how much time Derek's cock spent in his ass it didn't magically award him the deed to the alpha's mansion. This was not his house. It was Derek's, dammit. The only we they possessed was during werewolf sex. And that was kind of sad.

"You know what I mean," he said recovering quickly. "But yeah, crazy geriatric dude felt the need to pop in for some tea and a creeping session."

"Oh," Scott said finally catching on to the psycho that was Allison's grandpa. "So um, what did Derek do?"

Stiles knew he was asking not only about Gerard but the werewolf heat and that was a little bit awkward to tell his best friend when he had not previously considered himself to be of the man sexing variety.

"Let's just say Derek is very thorough," he said unable to resist freaking Scott out.

"Dude! Don't speak of… you know ever again. I do not want to picture you two getting freaky…"

"Multiple, multiple times," Stiles continued ignoring Scott's sounds of protest. "In many different positions and man, he does this thing with his tongue…"

"I will hang up on you Stiles, I swear to God!" Scott shrieked and Stiles just knew he was attempting to hold the phone away from his ears and possibly fill them with acid to burn away what he'd just told him. He grinned evilly and was suddenly very sure that he would have a lot of fun with Scott come Monday.

"Okay, okay keep your werewolf panties on," he said.

Scott went quiet for a brief moment and Stiles closed his eyes when the sun seemed to appear meekly from behind the clouds now that talk of a particularly crazy degree of Argent had ceased. "Did you hear about that girl from our school…?"

"Yeah," he sighed blinking against the sunlight that was burning away his eyelids. "Do you know who it was?"

"It was a girl named Charlie Monterey. She was in the year below us, a freshmen."

Stiles swore. And then he really wished he'd called the hunters last night. He could have stopped the monster that did that only he'd let it escape because he'd been selfish and distracted by his emotionally fragile boyfriend. He'd thought he'd been so badass about the whole thing but all he'd done was extend its killing spree. He should have just let Derek kill it because there was no doubt in his mind that it was going to kill again. And again. And again.

"Listen Scott," he said interrupting his best friend's words, no doubt Allison related. "I gotta go. I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Sure, buddy," Scott said but even he could hear the anxiety in Stiles voice. "Are you sure…?"

But he'd already hung up. He scrambled to his feet looking around and expecting Derek to be in his line of vision because this little game of alpha hide 'n' seek was getting old fast. He still hadn't seen him since the angry wall encounter last night although the mountain ash clearly meant the alpha couldn't go anywhere. He was trapped within Stiles little circle of doom. Cue villainous cackling.

"I would advise you to disrupt that barrier on Mr Hale's behalf," came a familiar voice beside him.

Stiles nearly jumped out of his skin because a few seconds before there had not been a butler standing right next to him and now there was and this was adding up to a bit too many haunting like appearances within several days. And this was so not The Shining, thank God. Considering their brief introduction- when Stiles had yelled at him in front of the entire town- he hadn't even seen the dude skulking around Derek's McMansion. In fact Stiles had been beginning to question if driver/butler dude actually existed.

"Oh my God! Jeeves!" he cried taking several steps away from him in case Jeeves/Henry wanted revenge for Stiles nearly scratching Derek's car when he'd almost run him over. "Warn a dude next time! You almost gave me an aneurism!"

"Apologies Mr Stilinski," Jeeves/ Henry said politely, clothes immaculately pressed and posture perfect. But if he was here then did that mean…

"Oh God have you been here this entire weekend?" Stiles demanded, pulling an agonised expression at the idea. Dear God, that would mean Jeeves had witnessed everything. And like everything, everything like werewolf sexy time, everything. Oh God.

"I arrived to continue my duties early this morning," he said and Stiles wanted to weep in sweet relief because he had just dodged the ultimate humiliation bullet. "But I would insist that you cease this barrier preventing Mr Hale from leaving. I am certain it is causing immense distress."

Stiles eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Did Derek send you? Because he's too chicken shit to talk to me himself after last night?"

Jeeve's expression flickered briefly but he had some badass level of control over himself because his polite smile didn't waver and that was definitely not a guarantee for most people after talking to Stiles. He had to admit he was impressed that Jeeves didn't immediately sock him for insulting his master or whatever. It was clear that he would have made a tricky arch nemesis if the title hadn't already been given to Derek.

"Mr Hale made no such request. I merely wish to impart information…"

He trailed off in surprise when Stiles jumped onto the hood of his jeep and sat comfortably on his new perch, eyebrows raised in expectation because if butler man wanted to talk Stiles was willing to listen and he'd be damned if he didn't make himself comfortable first. "Continue," he offered in polite mockery of the butler's tone moving his hand in a noble manner as if he were bestowing a knighthood. Jeeves didn't even react and Stiles had to hand it to the dude, he knew how to take cheek from irritating teenagers.

"As you no doubt are well informed, Mr Hale lost almost all of his entire family to a house fire several years ago and despite not being present at the time, takes certain concern at being imprisoned in a similar fashion."

Stiles jaw dropped. "Imprisoned?"

Jesus, take a few steps back. The point had been to keep raging, psycho werewolf out not raging, sexy alpha werewolf in. That was Derek's problem? Holy hell that man needed psychiatric assistance. Jeeves nodded as if in acknowledgement of Stiles ridiculous- catching flies with widened mouth- expression despite the usual human instinct to run from it.

"Your actions appear to trigger intense emotional responses from Mr Hale…"

Stiles scratched at the back of his head. "Yeah I did notice that."

"And heat week tends to make Mr Hale more irrational so I would suggest permitting him some distance," he said seemingly satisfied that he'd added his two cents to the matter. "If you'll excuse me."

And then the dude bowed like this really was the monarchy in England and left Stiles to his evidently unhelpful devices. He thought about Jeeves words looking down at the faint trail of ash only metres away keeping Derek inside and he definitely didn't enjoy the idea of being the bastard that was forcing him to relive past horrors. Because he knew a thing or two about past horrors. And they were not fun.

Maybe feeling trapped was Derek's equivalent to his panic attacks. No wonder his eyes had looked so wild, so panicked. Stiles waited until Jeeves was well out of eyesight because technically he still remained in an understudy role of arch nemesis and therefore he couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd obeyed him. And besides he'd practically been about to do it anyway because there had not been any rogue sightings since last night and maybe the end of heat week meant an end to evil rapist werewolf. Until the next heat began.

Or maybe it just meant end to _crazed, _rapist werewolf. Heat or no heat wasn't going to stop it from attacking people, or women. He glanced around again just to make sure he wasn't being watched before he moved slowly towards the barrier. He crouched down and brushed away the ash with his hand disturbing the connection. He'd barely broken the barrier before he was being pushed face first into the dirt as something heavy pressed against his back for leverage. He choked on the sudden onslaught of an unwanted grass meal before he was able to pull himself back up again just in time to watch Derek's disappearing form as he raced into the woods like some kind of animal.

"Jesus," he gasped spitting out leftover grass. "You're welcome asshole!"

It was safe to assume Derek would not be replying any time soon. Or returning. And considering how eager he'd been to leave the barrier it was unlikely he'd be keen to return so they could talk. Or engage in werewolf sexy time. So Stiles brushed himself off and went to retrieve his keys from inside Derek's house because he could be spending his Sunday in much better company. He did not see any sign of Jeeves so clearly his demon jeep had some otherworldly competition and he didn't waste any time collecting his keys and getting the hell out of there before it really turned into The Shining.

Stiles knew that he was angry with Derek when he drove towards his dad's place and he wished he'd had another opportunity to punch him in the face or hit him with his lacrosse stick only this time he would not be going for a gentle love tap. Oh no. He had bigger werewolf destruction plans than that. He didn't really even know why he was angry. Derek just seemed to make everything difficult because he'd broken his emotion switch and now irrational feelings were leaking out of him and making him push Stiles' face into the dirt.

For the second time now. Stiles was starting to see a pattern here. And not only that. But whenever he'd start to think he could unravel Derek's cactus brain the stupid, unpredictable alpha pulled another stunt that had him re-evaluating everything. Derek was an enigma, wrapped in a wolf and covered in prickly spikes to ward off curious bystanders.

He was a goddamn tricky puzzle that was for sure. But Stiles was sure he was slowly starting to figure it out. Maybe that was what was freaking Derek out so much. But it kind of sucked in the sense that clearly they would not be getting freaky without some kind of heat to encourage them and the withdrawal from so _much _sex to literally a eunuch level of sex was sort of messing with his brain_._

And little Stiles who had remained half hard all morning in anticipation of more heat sex- because apparently there were side effects from screwing someone's brains out so thoroughly- was still waiting for some serious Derek stimulation. Although going to visit his dad to prove he was still among the living and not werewolf chow was a good enough way to solve that problem.

His dad was sitting in the kitchen reading the newspaper and Stiles had to ignore the flood of sexual thoughts that followed looking at a kitchen table and recalling being screwed against one. Because those were definitely some very good sexy time memories.

"Hey Dad," he said as he walked in. "I survived heat week and all, where's my trophy? Or medal?"

He took a seat at the table as his dad pulled him into a one armed hug, rolling his eyes. "You could probably survive the apocalypse and you still wouldn't get a medal," he said. "Let me look at you, son."

He turned Stiles around and gave him an once over as if expecting a third arm to be sticking out of his neck or something but seeing as Stiles hadn't been swimming in vat of toxic waste it was unlikely. His father pulled a face but Stiles figured it was the- I'm looking at you and knowing you had really rough sex and I think that's too much information for me to handle- face so he didn't freak out too much.

"Where's Derek?" the used to be Sheriff asked making his way back to his newspaper and cup of coffee. Stiles made an irritated sound and drummed his fingers distractedly against the table.

"I don't know probably trying to kill the rogue," he guessed. "Or Grandpa Argent or some sort of furry animal. He took off running into the woods after I released him from house arrest."

His father raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't know if I dare ask, but maybe you should tell me the whole story."

So Stiles did, only he left out the sex parts so the story was over relatively quickly, seeing as that had basically been the point of the entire week. His father just sipped his coffee thoughtfully and Stiles was tempted to drink some, regardless of the consequences.

"Not at chance," his father muttered wagging his fingers in a no way in hell gesture. Stiles rolled his eyes but he'd only broken two appliances and a bed under the influence of coffee so clearly it wasn't a totally dangerous substance. Sort of.

"But what do you think? I mean should I just organise my tombstone now or…?"

His father frowned. "I wish you wouldn't talk like that," he said. "But I think what you have to understand here is that Derek's had a rough life, and he needs someone relatively normal to bring out the human part of him that's been buried for so long. Cut him some slack."

"I'm both offended and impressed," he admitted after a short pause. "Relatively normal?"

His father chuckled. "You're right I was aiming too high. How about we just stick with human?"

"Better," he admitted. "Have you had any luck with work?"

His father sighed draining his coffee and putting it into the sink. "None. But I'm not giving up on finding this rogue even with the Argents faring so badly."

"It hasn't gotten anyone since that girl from school right?" he asked hating the waver in his voice at the question. His father patted him consolingly on the shoulder.

"Another hunter this morning, but not before he wounded it, badly."

Stiles didn't know whether or not to feel satisfied or disturbed that this rogue could take down two hunters or that two seemed to be its limit before getting its ass kicked. "How badly?" he asked.

"Wolfsbane bullets, two rounds," he said. "It should be dead by tomorrow."

"Should be," he echoed leaving his seat and seizing his keys because he knew a lot could happen between 'should be' and 'it's dead'. "I'd better go."

"Derek?" his dad guessed and Stiles rolled his eyes because he was getting predictable or maybe his dad could just see his I'm going to go and deal with the bastard that started the feelings face.

"Always Derek," he admitted. "I should just shoot him myself."

"I'm sure you'd survive prison," his father teased but there was a look on his face as if he'd noticed something Stiles hadn't. He smiled pulling him into yet another hug. "Be safe, son."

Stiles didn't feel the need to prove just how unsafe the life of a werewolf's husband could be because his dad was already experiencing the joys of unemployment and he didn't want to add the inevitable death of his only child to the list.

"Yeah bye dad."

And then he left Casa de Stilinski with every intention of beginning his own personal Derek psychiatry session. Because enough was enough. Something had to be done. And even if it killed him he had to goddamn try. There was no stopping a Stilinski when it came to helping emotionally stunted werewolves come to grips with the feelings and such.

Cactus man was going down.

* * *

Only there was no cactus man when Stiles drove back to Derek's place. And there was no cactus man when he cooked dinner with lots of meat and left the front door open so the smells could waft outside and act as alpha werewolf bait. And there was no cactus man when he showered and then climbed into bed naked as if that could offer better enticement than the meat could. And there was no cactus man when he awoke the next morning after falling to sleep.

So he got dressed, made his own breakfast and then drove himself to school. And of course Jackson was already waiting for him. Shit.

"What no Camaro this time?" he called out from several parking spaces away, already moving towards Stiles to lay some serious sexual innuendos on him. Stiles wished he'd just run him down with his demon jeep instead even if he knew it wouldn't kill the douchebag. "Didn't the alpha make you his bitch during heat week?"

He locked his jeep as quickly as possible trying his best to appear as if he could walk normally but his idea of a fast pace wasn't fast enough, dammit. Jackson reached him within seconds and sniffed, smirking immediately because he could smell exactly what had taken place between himself and Derek. Dammit.

"Clearly he did," Jackson said eyes glinting with sick satisfaction. "And it looks like he wasn't gentle either."

Stiles tried not to react but his face was already heating up. "How's Danny, Jackson?" he asked. "How's he walking after heat week?"

Jackson's smirk widened. "He's not walking," he said. "Danny's not here today."

"What?" he demanded instantly spotting Scott and nearly running directly into his arms he was so goddamn thankful to see him. He sincerely wished he'd never even bothered to go to school today. It's not like cactus man would have noticed but his dad definitely would have and he did not want his dad getting out his shot gun these days unless it was for a very good reason.

"Danny can't get out of bed," Jackson continued looking mightily pleased with himself, the sick fucker. At least Derek hadn't reduced Stiles to a bed ridden screwed state, thank God.

"Maybe you should put him out of his misery then," Stiles snapped hurrying as quickly as he could towards Scott, his saviour and bestest friend in the whole wide world who would not let Jackson bother him with clichéd and albeit truthful sexual Derek jokes.

Jackson laughed. "Trust me Stilinski. Misery is the opposite of what he went through."

Stiles rolled his eyes, increasing his pace before, finally, thank fuck, he reached Scott. Only for Scott to turn bright red and step away from him like he'd been the one to be bitten by a werewolf and develop rabies or whatever.

"Oh my God Stiles you reek of sex," Scott whined. "And Derek."

And there went his chances of the rest of the day being reasonably okay. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as Jackson burst out laughing. He wanted to punch him, and Jackson and maybe himself though clearly he only had two fists and he had to choose his swings wisely.

"What did you expect Scotty? For me to smell like Danny's Armani?"

Jackson stopped laughing immediately and growled out a warning, shoulders tensing and expression turning threatening. What the hell? Stiles turned to him, mouth open in indignation. "Are you freaking kidding? You were just making fun of me screwing Derek and Danny's not even at school today. It's kind of impossible for me to even attempt any kind of whirlwind romance. Jealous much?"

"Danny's mine," he growled out completely ignoring what he'd said. Stiles nearly face palmed.

"Oh my God, did you just miss the part where I reek of Derek and sex? Seriously Jackson?"

He growled again as if for good measure and then stormed off already whipping out his cell phone as if he was going to call Danny to ensure he wasn't cheating on him with the clearly irresistible Stiles Stilinski. He rolled his eyes at Jackson's departing back.

"Heat week makes us all a bit crazy," Scott added but from several metres away with a hand covering his nose. Stiles wanted to throw his hands up to the sky and scream out his irritation. He stepped towards his best friend determined to punish him for being such a spectacularly shitty friend after he had sacrificed much of his time to keep Scott getting laid by his lady love.

"It's not that bad," he insisted stubbornly as Scott continued to back away and that was the moment when Erica entered the school, already walking past, nose wrinkling at the smell.

"It's bad," she confirmed unhelpfully. "But still kinda hot."

And then she kept walking after that wonderful observation leaving Stiles to wonder what exactly she thought was hot about it when Scott clearly wanted to throw himself off a cliff. Must have been a girl werewolf thing. He said an unflattering comment about Scott's eyebrows and then abandoned him for homeroom because he was clearly leaking sex pheromones out of his skin and every single werewolf in the nearby vicinity would be able to smell it. And because Scott was such a shitty friend who would rather avoid than offer support this was going to be a very solo experience.

"You survived," Isaac noted when he took his seat and Stiles pulled a face at him in response. "I can't say I would have seen that coming."

Stiles drummed his fingers across the table in an aggravated beat. "Ye of little faith," he said. "Didn't anybody tell you I'm impossible to kill?"

Isaac actually snorted at that and Stiles took a moment to consider how offended he should be that a werewolf found his inner man pain amusing. The werewolf in question ran a hand distractedly through his curls as he pulled a face at the evident man sex smells floating off Stiles' skin and he stared him down shamelessly because everybody already knew what had happened and he may as well freaking own up to it.

Isaac frowned. "What happened to that Chaney guy you were saving yourself for?"

Oh Jesus. Stiles rolled his eyes in response because didn't the werewolf boy understand sarcasm when he'd heard it? "He died, like thirty nine years ago. Dear God, you werewolves need to keep up with the classics."

Isaac's eyebrows knitted together in misunderstanding but he shrugged as if classic werewolf movies were not currently on his to-do list and Stiles disdained for the deprived werewolves of America. But that didn't stop him thinking about the very lack of faith Isaac had had in his surviving heat week. Had everybody assumed he'd be dead come Monday? Jesus, it's not like he'd been a freaking delicate flower or anything which Derek had crushed in his big werewolf claws.

And then Boyd took the seat opposite him smirking in barely concealed amusement because it was apparently freaking hilarious that Stiles had had his cherry seriously popped by big shot, alpha, Derek Hale. Sons of bitches, the lot of them. Or maybe Boyd had just noticed that Derek had used Stiles body as like his own freaking werewolf sex canvas; covering every inch of him in his scent and other things so that there could be no misunderstanding who he'd gotten freaky with during heat week.

Not to mention all of the hickeys, bruises, stubble burn and other various lewd marks covering every visible area of his skin so that all of the humans could see as well. There was that. Derek was a very thorough dude. Unfortunately, for what remained of Stiles dignity, too thorough.

Conclusion: every single freaking person in the whole entire universe was now aware or about to become aware of the obvious fact that Stiles had been seriously laid by a smoking hot alpha.

"Jackson started a pool on how damaged you'd be today," Boyd offered out of nowhere.

"What?!" he yelled nearly jumping out of his seat. "Are you freaking kidding me?"

They both shrugged as if to say _Really you didn't expect Jackson would bet on just how badly the alpha screwed you? _He thought about it for a second.

"Who won?" he asked suddenly curious despite being scandalised and offended by this serious breach of his human rights and man pride and et cetera. He ignored the slight twinge of his ass as he shifted in his seat again reminding him exactly what he'd been doing all weekend and then his mind immediately went through the highlights reel, totally unpermitted. Shit.

He let his mind go blank because there was no way in hell he was getting a Derek boner in front of two werewolves with keen senses and the reserved knowledge that he'd already been screwed senseless by said alpha. Because he was not going to make this day any worse for himself.

"Lydia won," Boyd said. "She guessed you'd still be able to walk."

Stiles, for once, leant back in his seat reduced to speechlessness due to the shocking fact that so many people had taken such a sudden interest in his blossoming sex life. It was very disturbing. And after that it was certainly not one of his best academic days. He couldn't concentrate- as per usual- but this time it was because of the whispers and snickers and other underhanded sex comments he'd received from random strangers throughout the entire day. And sure, people liked to be noticed and all but he certainly would have preferred to remain invisible for the remainder of his miserable existence if it meant people would stop approaching him to discuss Derek's sexual prowess.

Because for one, what mental capacity would he have to be in to discuss that with some random stranger who he'd never spoken a word in his life to before? And secondly, why the hell couldn't they just ask the stinking alpha these questions? Oh that was right. The asshole was out prancing through the woods like a freaking teddy bear having a picnic and that left Stiles to deal with the influx of otherwise imposing and very personal questions.

And he didn't even bother to hope Derek had been demoted from person of interest in the hunt to catch the rogue. Or that people had realised he was just a seriously attractive alpha with little to no social skills, not a psychotic rapist werewolf. Even if he'd totally convinced most of the hunters.

Because the people of Beacon Hills were known for their trust issues.

He hadn't watched any television since crazy Grandpa Argent's interview but he figured they hadn't bothered to announce Derek was innocent anyway. Though he didn't doubt they'd be announcing he'd lost his v-card soon enough just to ensure the information was properly spread on a world wide scale. But that would have to wait because two particular ladies had been lying in wait all day to pounce on him for an in depth discussion on said sex life. And because he was not on his A-game he was completely unsuspecting when Lydia and Allison cornered him in the boy's locker room on his way to lacrosse practise.

This was also made easier by the fact that he'd been abandoned by all of his teammates made possible from one seriously terrifying look from Lydia Martin. Even Jackson had bailed at that look. Traitors.

"How much money did you win in the betting pool?" he asked her impressed that she'd beaten out all of the other teenage gamblers at Beacon Hills' high school.

"Three hundred and sixteen bucks," she said smugly and his mouth fell open.

"Three hundred…? Oh my God. Who even bets on stuff like that?" he demanded. "You know what, I deserve a cut of that. At least twenty per cent…"

"Yeah right," she scoffed. "Now start talking."

"Talking?" he asked eyes darting desperately around the room for a handy escape hatch. "That is like the opposite of what you should be asking me to do, I mean…"

Her hands came down on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and preventing him from jumping up and running away, yelling at the top of his lungs for his demon jeep to save him. She leant down close, using her gaze to jedi mind trick him into opening the vault of silence.

"Well?" Lydia demanded when he kept his mouth sewn shut in protest of the serious grilling he was about to receive. "How was it?"

Stiles managed a politely disinterested expression. "Whatever do you mean?" he inquired, totally poker faced because he would take every sordid detail of his and Derek's sexy time to his grave so help him God, amen.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Don't even try that shit, Jackson tells me you're covered in Derek's funky spunk and you're walking like you've had something of considerable size up your ass."

He flushed and Allison cleared her throat awkwardly. "Funky spunk?" he echoed nearly bursting out into awkward laughter because this was not a discussion he had expected would take place in the boy's locker room- or ever for that damn matter.

"Yes. Seminal fluid," she said and when he said nothing she continued with many more, terrifying examples. "You know, ejaculation, man milk, love juice, splooge, sex mustard, jizz, manjam, pearl necklaces, love butter, cock fizz, demon seed, man chowder, baby batter, cum."

Stiles choked on his own air and she sighed in frustration.

"Sperm, Stiles, God."

He spluttered for a few seconds as he attempted to get his breathing back to normal. Because this was not remotely decent conversation. And he was currently experiencing cardiac arrest. "Jesus," he gasped. "You can't say that kind of stuff in front of Allison, Scott will kill me!"

He paused. "Actually, can I write some of those down…?"

Allison's face turned flaming red and Lydia shook him as she let out an unsatisfied sound. "Focus, dammit. How was sexual intercourse with Derek?"

His mouth fell open and he glanced between them, totally panicked because their expressions were expectant and he figured he would not leave this room without being forced to divulge something. In the end it was Allison that convinced him.

"Oh c'mon Stiles," she said squeezing his arm gently. "You know you're dying to tell someone and Scott's not going to listen."

He rubbed his face but sighed, giving in because he was of the weak willed variety when it came to crossbow wielding girls. "Okay, okay but don't tell Scott that I spoke of such things in your presence. I don't want to die."

Allison nodded enthusiastically and gave him a smile where she was practically shooting rainbows out of her eyes and Lydia just looked hungry, scary hungry. He gulped. "It was… good," he admitted looking at Lydia's raised eyebrow because nothing more than raunchy and graphic detail would satisfy her. "Okay, okay _really _good like, my God, dude knows what he's doing. It's his goddamn fault that I now possess a predilection towards sex addiction."

Lydia rolled her eyes.

"But it didn't hurt?" Allison whispered. "When he um…"

Stiles shrugged not feeling as embarrassed as he would've guessed to be discussing being penetrated by a hot werewolf dude. "Not as much as I'd thought."

"Did he knot you?" Lydia demanded and Allison gasped slapping Lydia's arm as if to stop the words coming from her mouth. Stiles flushed and wanted to bury his head in a nearby locker to avoid her penetrating stare. Dear Lord, how did she know these things? Oh right, she'd dated Jackson. Did that mean he'd knotted her? Oh God why was the thought of a heterosexual union so disturbing?

"Lydia! You can't just ask him that!" Allison spluttered. "Th-that's private."

And if that wasn't an admission that she was well experienced in the art of werewolf sex and she and Scott had already done _that _together he didn't know what was. And that was so not what he wanted to think about his best friend. Ever. He jumped to his feet, eager to escape Lydia's twenty sex questions. She was worse than Jackson.

"Is that the bench calling my name? Can't keep her waiting you know how she pines for me," he said tripping over his own feet in his frenzied escape. "See you guys later."

And then he practically ran out of the locker room trying to keep his high pitched and unnatural screams internalised. But basically everything went downhill from there. He was stuck next to Greenberg on the bench which led to further uncomfortable questioning about the nature of his sex life with no method of escape except attempting to decapitate himself with his lacrosse stick. Only that would have taken too long and been too messy.

Plus Scott couldn't stop looking at him as if expecting Stiles to magically stop smelling like Derek sex and he had to resist the urge to beat him over the head as well. And Jackson's comments only continued to get worse. And more graphically disturbing. Extremely graphic, like explaining in detail exactly what Stiles smelt like in front of the rest of the team kind of graphic. And that was why Jackson was a werewolf douchebag.

So it was safe to say that when school finished he was super pissed and on a Stilinski warpath. Although it could have been worse. He could have spotted Gerard Argent and been further creeped on, so safe to say it could have been a psychotic disturbing level of badness. He got out reasonably unscathed. But when he arrived home there was no Derek werewolf husband to greet him and possibly continue to make him smell like awesome man sex. Because of course normal people disappeared into the woods to never emerge again, distant howling the only indication that they remained among the living. God. He even attempted to call the alpha on his cell phone.

Although he would have had no idea where a most likely fully transformed werewolf would hide a cell phone, so he wasn't completely surprised when there was no freaking answer. But that still didn't make it okay, dammit. So Stiles munched on some food from the cupboard for strength and purpose and whatnot and then got back into his jeep and drove off to Dr Deaton's clinic because he had a plan to get Derek out of the freaking woods already.

And of course when he arrived, Scott ran from the room as soon as he entered like the little bitch he was. And that did not remotely improve his mood. "Oh my God Scott I had sex with Derek, freaking get over it!" he yelled after his quickly disappearing best friend.

Dr Deaton stood by the counter with a completely bemused expression on his face and Stiles walked over to him, shamelessly ignoring the fact that he was only serving to broadcast his sex life to a further extent of his own volition. And that seemed a little counterproductive.

"Hello again Mr Stilinski," Deaton said politely, noticing the obvious Derek sex marks all over him and choosing not to comment on them. Thank you, Jesus. Stiles wanted to hug him for the evident tact he possessed and which Scott was seriously lacking. The jackass.

"Hey, so uh you've helped me out with my little furry wolf problem before and I was wondering if you could lend me something."

And then he explained what that something was ignoring Deaton's raised eyebrows and Scott sticking his head out from around the doorway every few seconds. He tried not to seize the nearest weapon- which happened to be Deaton's bell announcing customers- and lob it at Scott's head. The shaman/ veterinarian readily agreed to help Stiles and went into the back room to retrieve what he'd requested so he waited there impatiently, glancing at Scott every so often and rolling his eyes.

"You know you're going to have to deal with it sooner or later," he said. "We're practically married these days anyway."

Scott huffed out a sigh. "I know you're mated, dude I just wasn't expecting it to be so…"

"Pungent smelling?" he guessed figuring that was probably the reason why Scott was suddenly treating him like he had leprosy.

Scott rolled his shoulders in a helpless shrug. "I was going to say awkward but that too."

Stiles resisted the urge to punch himself in the face but Scott was going to have to deal with Stiles smelling like serious man sex because he had no intention of going cold turkey anytime soon. That is, if Derek would stop playing so hard to entice from the woods and they could get back to some serious sexy time already. "Well I'm sorry ol' buddy ol' pal but I got bigger wolves to fry right now."

"Derek?" Scott guessed.

Stiles nodded throwing out an overdramatic sigh. "He's cheating on me with Beacon Hills Reserve," he cried out flailing his arms to get the point across, the point being he'd lost his werewolf boyfriend. "And now my only choice is to have his body hacked into thousands of tiny pieces and scattered in the wind."

Scott's perplexed expression was enough to entertain him for several decades. "Have you always had a tendency towards murder?"

Stiles wanted to laugh. Or cry. Or both. "Dude we went into the woods at night once to look for a body, pretty sure that was a dead giveaway."

Scott smiled as Deaton returned handing him a paper bag and Stiles smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks doc, I owe you man," he said.

"No problem Mr Stilinski, I hope it helps with your ah- furry problem."

Stiles grinned and tipped an invisible hat as a way of thank you before he left the clinic feeling satisfied that phase one of -lure wilderness inclined werewolf, cactus man out of the woods so that said wolf man could continue dousing Stiles in his funky spunk- was a go.

* * *

It took less than fifteen minutes to return to Derek's den of dastardly deeds and by then phase one was in full swing. He'd barely pulled into the driveway before he was withdrawing said item out of the bag, slamming the door of his jeep closed as he jumped out. He stood there for a few minutes seriously contemplating the level of insanity that Derek withdrawal had plunged him into and just how much further he'd be willing to descend into the bowels of mental hell before the alpha decided to accept the feelings and such before he put the item to his lips.

And then he blew.

A high pitched trilling sound that barely reached Stiles ears rippled through the woods and he was pleased at the responding howls and the very dramatic emergence of a flock of birds from the tree tops, scattering away from the sound as if in disgust. He kept an eye on those guys in case they felt the need to swoop by and drop some wonderful gifts of bird excrement on his head in retaliation.

And because he was determined to infuriate the alpha to murdering level of crazy he removed the dog whistle from his lips and called, "Derek! Here boy!"

Sure it was a dumb idea but he was angry and frustrated and possibly missing Derek's ability to screw him senseless so he wasn't feeling very concerned about the level of irritation the sound would cause an alpha. Or any other animal of the werewolf variety. He didn't have to wait long. Derek barrelled out of the woods as if Stiles had called him, which he had so the plan was working perfectly.

Until the alpha growled out an angry warning before tackling Stiles to the ground. He swore and squirmed to escape but Derek had already gotten a steel grip on him and clearly all was lost.

"Jesus," he snapped. "What is it with you and throwing me around like a sack of potatoes?"

Derek scowled at him. "What is it with you treating me like a dog?" he barked expression livid and his fingers pressed deeply into Stiles biceps while his thighs pinned him down. And seeing as that was as much action he'd gotten since Saturday night it was hardly surprising that he reacted to the touch, to the press of Derek's body against him. The withdrawal had been too much for his libido and he was hard as a rock within seconds. And that only served to make Derek angrier.

"Stop that," the alpha snapped and Stiles continued to struggle, huffing out an angry breath when Derek was as immovable as stone.

"No," he replied stubbornly refusing to stop whatever the hell Derek was talking about. And that did not seem to please the alpha one bit because he leaned forward, teeth clamping down on Stiles neck harder than ever before making him cry out in pain. Because ow, what the flying fuck? Did he look like a chew toy? He thrashed against the alpha twisting to escape, arousal easily forgotten in the light of evident neck mauling.

"What the fuck?" he cried out, swearing when Derek kept his teeth sealed over his neck as if his jaw had been clamped shut and then super glued. Was he trying to turn him into a freaking werewolf? Sweet baby Jesus, he was wasn't he?

He managed to free his knee and didn't hesitate to jerk it upwards into the general vicinity of Derek's balls. The alpha howled upon knee to family jewels contact, releasing his very human teeth from Stiles neck as he moved to roll away pulling Stiles with him. They rolled across the grass, swearing, grunting and growling. In the struggle Stiles ended up on top of the alpha, hands pressed against his chest and legs tangled together in a way that made little Stiles interest perk up again only Derek was groaning in pain so he was clearly the only one aroused here. Oops.

He slid his hands up Derek's neck until he was cupping his jaw, forcing the alpha to look at him not bothering to be gentle about it because Derek had just attempted to bite his neck off. "What the hell was that?" he yelled. "Were you trying to turn me? I don't want the freaking bite!"

Derek scoffed seizing control of himself and pushing at Stiles so that they were rolling in the grass again and he ended up beneath the alpha. He hovered over Stiles face, expression tight but not as angry as before so maybe he'd nearly broken Stiles neck for a reason. It better be a freaking good one.

"I wasn't," he snapped. "I was trying to show you I'm not your goddamn pet to play with whenever you feel like it!"

Werewolf cactus man says _what _now?

Stiles gaped at him. "I don't…"

"A dog whistle?" he growled. "Are you fucking kidding me? And you think just because you've got mountain ash you can lock me away like an animal?"

Jesus is that what Derek had thought he was doing? Fuck.

"I was trying to protect you!" Stiles shouted pushing at his chest, furious that Derek still didn't seem to trust him. The alpha barely seemed to notice the action. "I can't watch anybody else die! I can't!"

And it was the sound of his voice breaking on his last word that had Derek's attention. The alpha's eyes widened as Stiles turned his head away, face burning and chest heaving. He could feel the tightness behind his eyes threatening emotionally teary scarring but he breathed deeply, forcing the feelings away and telling himself to grow a fucking pair. Because this was not about loss, or death or grief that always burned within his chest, tightening around his heart in moments of solitude and bringing on another panic attack.

This was about Derek. And how since being with him, that tightening, that feeling that he couldn't breathe for fear of being constricted was starting to loosen.

And he couldn't deal.

Derek's fingers slid across his cheek, gently turning his jaw as he leant down to kiss him. Stiles let out a strangled, needy sound twisting his fingers into Derek's hair and tugging, pulling him closer because he wanted more. And suddenly they were tearing at each other like nobody's business. He clutched at Derek like he was his lifeline and the feelings swarmed within him bringing those three little words to the surface again. He smothered them with Derek's mouth, before it undid them both.

And then he kissed the alpha like the world was ending because it was. At least this world he thought he knew, where Lydia Martin was his one true love, and Scott was whipped beyond measure and his dad was a badass Sheriff and Jackson was a douchebag.

Because that didn't exist anymore. Sure, Lydia was still terrifyingly beautiful, and Scott would never cease to be whipped to an inch of his life by Allison and his dad would always be a badass no matter what he did and let's face it Jackson would forever be a freaking douchebag. But that wasn't what had changed.

The feelings had taken him prisoner in some very serious tactical, emotional warfare manoeuvre and he was suddenly seeing everything with new eyes.

Because he was mated to a man of few words, a cactus level of emotional availability, an android styled, werewolf sex God, Derek Hale.

And Stiles Stilinski was in freaking _love _with him.

Fuck.


	11. Nahi

arrgh my laptop keeled over an died with the beginning of this chapter on it! so I had to buy an new laptop charger and blah blah meanwhile as I wait for shipping (Aussie so that could take a while) reduced to starting this chap all over again. Rage quit except for the part where I didn't :D

Enjoy!

* * *

**Nahi.**

It was safe to say that Stiles kept his- my God werewolf sir, but I believe I want more than to just get into your pants for the rest of my existence because the feelings have brainwashed me, for the love of God what even?- situation under wraps.

He didn't make any comments of his sudden realisation of undying love for some serious alpha werewolf booty when Derek yanked him to his feet and half dragged, half carried him into the house.

He did not make any declarations of sweet, sweet Derek lovin' when the alpha somehow managed to keep his sexy time control to make it into their bedroom and to the mattress.

Stiles didn't shout to the rooftops just how much the feelings had taken over the tumour of gushy man feelings which had clearly poisoned his brain and spread all over his heart in some sort of disturbed mess of gooeyness.

In fact he didn't say anything, not when Derek undressed them both or even when after several minutes of careful Stiles- still sore ass, thank you- prepping the alpha buried himself in the heat of his body- though he did make several unintelligible and otherwise bizarre sounds of what could only be described as some sort of animal dying.

The man sex had melted his brain. And Stiles was not proud of it at all. Nope. Except for the fact that he totally was. Details, whatever.

But unfortunately the messy explosion that had been a nuclear bomb level of emotional catastrophe had driven him to be unable to speak.

Because he was not in his right mind and he was very damn sure that if he soon evolved past garbled gibberish the very first words to leave his mouth would probably have been 'I love you,' followed by 'Now would you freaking screw me already?'

He couldn't seem to get past the fact that he was in _love _with the dude.

In.

Love.

With.

Derek.

Hale.

How the fuck had this emotional hijacking of the feelings occurred? He'd only just been thoroughly enjoying their sexy time because he was of course, a hormonal boy with varying degrees of sexual addiction and Derek was very good at said sexy time.

If his performance now was anything to go by. Stiles continued to make sounds that were not of this world when the alpha arched his back, fingers sliding across his sweaty skin in a shocking display of attentiveness that may or may not have been considered as foreplay.

Because they were still totally working on the foreplay thing. Patience was definitely not one of their shared virtues. Although Stiles didn't really have as much problem with this when Derek was steadying his hips by gripping his waist, going to town on his teenage body which could not withstand Derek's pace for much longer.

The alpha's hands slid up his chest until he was wrapping his arms around him burying his face into his favourite Stiles' irresistible body spot; his neck.

And then he proceeded to swipe his tongue across it, licking across his heated skin and tasting the sweat off his body like Stiles was some kind of freaking aroma that he was considering bottling.

Stiles hoped not. The alpha sucked bruises all over him, ignoring the pathetically needy sounds that escaped his mouth when Derek did so. He was too busy focusing his mind on repressing all of his various love declarations to really focuse on how damn good the alpha was at sexing him into mental oblivion.

It was no easy task and Derek's tongue wasn't making it any easier. The alpha swooped in for the proverbial kill –of a sexy nature- teeth clamping down over Stiles again nowhere near as rough as he had been before.

And to his everlasting horror Stiles was immediately pushed over the edge by the sensation, his inclination towards pain and bestial nature clearly revealing itself in times of erection inducing moments. His orgasm slammed into him wrenching a desperate groan from his mouth loving the feeling of his body clamping down over Derek, tightening around his werewolf cock as if it was sending a bodily message on how it very much liked the alpha being inside him.

And then in his post coital haze Stiles forgot he was meant to be keeping silent because talking meant he would say the three little words and the universe would implode and he did not want that kind of responsibility sitting on his shoulders when the apocalypse came around. But his sexed up brain didn't consider this when he opened his mouth.

"I l-"

He only just managed to abort mission; coming to his senses in time to seal his mouth shut against the first freely available mouth sealing apparatus. Derek had his hands pressed up against the pillows, trapped and not capable of covering his overactive mouth.

So he did the only thing he could. Stiles sank his teeth against the very muscled shoulder that was offered invitingly in front of his mouth because Derek was currently pressed against his throat and was not moving any time soon and speaking was not an option.

Only what he didn't expect was Derek's reaction. The alpha howled, tensing all over like he'd actually just progressed into his mechanical stage, jerking out of the warmth of Stiles' very very, sated body and nearly jumping countries, he moved so damn quickly away from him.

"You bit me!" Derek barked eyes wide and- dare he even think him capable of said emotion- surprised and looking at him like he'd developed rabies or grown two heads.

Stiles scrambled up into a more dignified position, ignoring the quickly cooling semen covering his chest and struggling to keep his heart rate normal after that unbelievably freaking shocking display of alpha weirdness.

"Uh- I couldn't help it," he said quickly. "It was instinct."

Derek raised an eyebrow, expression utterly –my non-werewolf boyfriend just bit me- level of stunned outrage.

Naturally Stiles used his meltdown distracted state to his advantage, eyes drifting to Derek's very unsatisfied business barely getting the chance to observe the very distinct swelling as the alpha turned away without a word disappearing into the bathroom and locking it shut. But he was not going to have that.

"Hey!" Stiles called already responding to Derek's werewolf cock problem because he was a sick, sick man who wanted that thing in his ass pronto and having a door preventing that from happening was not good.

"Where are you going with that?" He demanded banging his fist against the door feeling angered he was missing out on some of the very interesting benefits of werewolf sex. The benefits being an unusual- growing in size whenever the hell it clearly felt like it- werewolf penis.

"You sure as hell better not be playing with yourself in there," he said. "Because everybody knows your werewolf husband is supposed to take care of that shit."

Stiles distinctly heard the sound of Derek's frustrated growl through the door and nearly decapitated himself out of irritation at the alpha's ridiculous- I'm having a serious people will probably die freakout here- behaviour.

"You're such an asshole!" he snapped. "Why do I even…"

_Love you. _He slammed his fist over his mouth, grunting in annoyance because the feelings kept leaking out of him and that shit was meant to stay hidden under a boulder or like a freaking mountain until Derek realised he was not a robot without a heart.

"Jesus," he muttered against his fist knowing he needed to get the freaking hell away from the -locked in the bathroom- alpha because he was too busy taking care of his knot and not sticking it in Stiles' ass which was clearly where it should be if it had finally made a second appearance after so long. Maybe he needed to bite Derek again to ensure it would happen a third time?

God he had so many problems right now.

He sighed and then figured fuck it he'd leave Derek to his many, many psychological issues and clean himself up instead. So he walked out of the room, naked and covered in the evidence of their sexy time and went to find one of the other bathrooms that wasn't hiding a werewolf beating himself off because he preferred to withhold from the guy that was in love with him.

Jesus how had this happened? He hadn't even really liked Derek to begin with. In fact as of now he was seriously contemplating the operation of brain synapses that had led to his choice of being seriously lovestruck by an emotionally constipated alpha with a phobia of being bitten by harmless humans.

Could anyone say hypocrite?

And now he was having a problem with love vomit because he was being tested by the need to regurgitate said feelings of adoration and love in the alpha's presence since coming to this- dear God am I actually in love with this nutjob?- conclusion.

And there was only one solution to this problem- have his mouth sewn shut and immediately leave the country forever and ever to avoid declarations of love which would no doubt destroy any progression of emotional expression from the messed up alpha. If Stiles even mentioned the word love he knew he'd never get Derek out of the woods ever again, not even with a freaking dog whistle. Stupid werewolf powers.

Dear God would Derek be able to sense his new found love with his wolfy senses? Could he actually sniff out that Stiles was totally gaga for werewolf cactus man?

Oh fuckery. This was not good. This was bad, bad, very bad.

He quickly located the nearest bathroom and jumped into the shower feeling little Stiles stir at the thought that Derek was taking care of himself upstairs because he was in love with the jerk and when he so much as blinked Stiles' pants automatically tightened.

Jesus and don't even start him on what happened when Derek started using his eyebrows.

He bit his lip and tried to resist the urge to take care of his own business because apparently sex marathoning had awarded him with a faster recovery period which damn how hot was that? And now he felt like he had grown under Derek's thorough tutelage. But back to the bigger issue here. How the fuck was he meant to hide his undying love from an ultra sensory robot man like Derek? The answer was not because it was freaking impossible. Holy Shit. He was so freaking screwed.

Derek was going to self destruct when he figured it out, Stiles was certain. The feelings of others were not part of his system make up, especially when they were directed towards him. And Stiles was going to have to up his game if he didn't want scraps of robot metal scattered across their living room floor.

When he was satisfied that nobody would notice- nobody human at least- his recent sexy time activities he turned off the nozzle and retrieved some of his clothes from upstairs which his dad had had the decency to drop off when he'd figured out Stiles' duffel bag full of socks problem like the Sheriff he truly was- or technically wasn't.

It was nice to put on his own clothes but he'd started kind of liking wearing Derek's clothes a little too much and he sort of missed it. And that was only scratching the surface of how sappy Derek was making him. Maybe the alpha's werewolf cock possessed magical powers that induced hyperactive horny teenagers into a state of obsessed and no doubt embarrassing levels of adoration and feelings.

Because he wanted to be with Derek like all the freaking time. He didn't want Derek running about in the woods unless he was with him too. God he even wanted to be knotted by the jerk-not-really-jerk-because-feelings. And he wanted to know everything about him. He wanted Derek to tell him about his sister, wanted to sit on the couch for cuddly werewolf time while the alpha spoke about his family before the fire. He even wanted to know what happened with Kate.

He wanted to know everything he could about Derek, his life, his past and where he'd been and clearly he'd not been above invading his privacy and looking at his police file to do so. God he'd stood up to a bunch of freaking hunters because he didn't want Derek blamed for being who he was even if that didn't include a murdering, psycho, rapist werewolf. He hated that people in town had turned on him.

And he hated that the alpha was so alone all the time, and no creepy ghost butlers did not count as company.

God he was willing to do anything to help Derek, even if it was against the alpha's wishes. Even if it was for his own good. Stiles would do it. Because he loved him.

Conclusion: Stiles was almost as whipped as Scott and was now just as brainless.

Sweet baby Jesus maybe he was the nutjob here. But that didn't stop the plan that was beginning to formulate in his brain. Stiles cooked a meaty dinner in the hopes it would lure Derek out of the bathroom, because although it may not have been a closet- pun intended- he still needed to get the fuck outta there if he was ever going to realise that he was completely besotted with his human better- was there every any doubt?- half.

His get manwolf out of closet/bathroom plan was ultimately a success but that didn't mean Derek wasn't a total mess of emotional roller coaster.

"I swear I don't have rabies," he promised when he pushed a plate towards the alpha who still looked uneasy, maturely ignoring the snort of derision that followed.

He didn't expect Derek to be capable of words after such an earth shattering realisation that he may or not have been a biter in bed during werewolf intercourse. Although he didn't really understand why it was such a big deal for the cactus werewolf. It's not like one bite from Stiles would turn Derek into a puny human. Jeez.

"I can't believe you bit me," the alpha said, surprising him by actually speaking. He'd figured they'd be sitting in silence for the rest of the night but Derek was shaking his head as if he still couldn't get over Stiles inability to keep his teeth to himself. Seriously this was getting his werewolf panties into a twist? What kind of hypocritcal views did he have on Stiles' ass hitting?

"You bite me all the time," he shot back. "And I could get seriously werewolf hairy if you bit too hard. Talk about double standards, buddy."

Derek frowned. "I'd never give you the bite if you didn't want it."

Stiles tried not to keel over at the alpha admitting he'd thought about biting him because he did not want all of that excess hair and Jesus what would that do to his eyebrows? No thank you. But still the fact that Derek was thinking about these things had to mean he wanted to keep Stiles for the long run right?- though mates sort of meant he didn't have a choice- or be alone forever. That was another option. Another sucky option.

"Holy God, no, no I'd prefer to keep my level of hairiness as it is thanks," he said resisting the urge to check if his eyebrows had suddenly grown at the thought. Derek stared at him but it felt more like he was staring into him and Stiles had to resist the urge to blurt out that he loved his werewolf ass and the laser beams he liked to call his eyes. Hell even his eyebrows. He just wanted to tell him that he loved everything about him.

Again. Damn this was becoming a problem.

He cleared his throat and turned away to retrieve his own plate of food. "So uh, did you see anything interesting in the woods during your little werewolf adventure?"

Derek chewed thoughtfully as he ate, not taking his eyes away from Stiles- not even to freaking blink. And hello that was not standard eye gazing procedure. Stiles had to cram food into his mouth to resist shouting out declarations of love again.

The alpha swallowed, eyeing him with suspicion. "Are you changing the subject?"

Stiles tried not to choke on his food and pulled a strained expression as he chewed the death trap that was suddenly in his mouth. He cleared his throat scratching at the back of his head.

"Are you?"

Sure, he could have probably come up with something better but his only other option seemed to be 'I love you, you stupid cactus man now would you just knot me already?'. Derek scowled and pinched some of Stiles food off of his plate in retaliation, smirking at his exclamation of outrage because food kept up his strength and he needed his strength for more sexytime as he was werewolf stamina challenged.

"You bit me," Derek repeated. "Why did you bite me?"

Stiles thought frantically for a second, eyes unconsciously checking for escape hatches, trapdoors or windows he could dive through. Three options were available if things reached love vomit proportions and considering how the day was going, it was definitely on the agenda.

"How the hell should I know?" he said. "Why do _you _bite me?"

Derek continued eating but his eyes were still narrowed in suspicion and Stiles was very much not enjoying these twenty werewolf questions. "Because you like it," he said lips curving at Stiles flustered response and the werewolf obvious tightening of his pants. "And I like to mark you."

He tried not to think about how hot that was or how much he wanted Derek in his pants like pronto because he had wisely not jerked himself off in the shower to avoid werewolf sensing capabilities. And that had clearly been a very big mistake. Damn he was seriously horny right now and the feelings were attempting to make a breach from their cells, imprisoned in the tumour of emotion over his heart. Time to bring in the warden: denial and lying. Lots of lying.

"Maybe I was doing that too ever think of that?"

Derek smiled. Like actually smiled and the cells holding the feelings were literally blown away because he was smiling with his teeth, eyes crinkling as he looked at him. Well there went Stiles pants. He choked out a strangled. "Oh shit," because the alpha was not playing fair dammit.

Before promptly smothering his airways with more food.

"You're human," Derek said oblivious to Stiles internal meltdown. "Marking isn't generally instinct like it is for us."

Stiles managed a non committal shrug because feelings were running around freely and he was going to say something that he really shouldn't be thinking of saying, or feeling dammit. But goddamn he freaking wanted to, he really did. What the hell was wrong with him?

Instead he went with. "You mean like knotting is?"

He didn't like that the question removed the smile instantly from the alpha's face but Derek had already backed him into a wall metaphorically and he'd had no choice but to change it to a topic that would get cactus man's blood boiling. And maybe he wanted to know why the hell Derek was withholding all of his werewolf glory.

"That's different," he growled, tone indicating a warning for Stiles to drop it which he didn't, duh.

"Different like you'll only do it once and never do it again even when you have a knot problem in front of a very willing to take knot partner?"

Derek froze. "That's- it's intimate."

Stiles was starting to get angry now, because Derek was oblivious to the fact that he was seriously in love with him and keeping that kind of shit a secret was no picnic with a bunch of werewolves. And because apparently Stiles- who was in fact werewolf married to Derek- didn't make the cut for 'intimate' sexy time.

"More intimate than having a freaking stranger's werewolf cock in your virgin ass for like three freaking days?" he demanded nearly throwing his fork across the room by accident.

Derek's expression went strangely blank and Stiles was curious if he'd just gone into shutdown mode or if the emotions inside him had finally died from lack of use.

"You think I'm a stranger?" Derek asked softly the expression on his face making Stiles want to slam his head against the- yes we had sexy time against this surface- counter.

"I don't know what to think," he admitted. "You won't tell me a damn thing about you and when I try to find out for myself you freak the hell out and disappear into the woods for several freaking days."

Derek didn't look angry but his expression was unreadable as he stood up and moved around the counter pulling Stiles into his arms. And hugging him.

Again. Oh motherfucker was he trying to break Stiles' resolve to hide his lovey dovey feelings?

The air left his chest in a whoosh of groaning breath as he clutched every inch of the alpha closer to him, immensely pleased when Derek didn't trap his hands this time and let him do it. But then he just wanted to declare his hardcore lurve and throw flowers in the air and make rainbows 'n' shit because Derek was hugging him again- of his own volition.

"I'm not…" Derek began haltingly sounding almost like the words were being strangled out of him. "Very good… at this."

No shit Sherlock. Stiles had to resist the urge to laugh at the situation. Because Derek was kind of sort of admitting he sucked and that was as close as apology for said suckage that he would ever get. He'd better savour as much of it as he could. But that didn't really matter because it felt like his heart was growing several sizes- and hello that was totally a heart condition right there- and he had his mouth pressed so tightly together to keep silent that it physically hurt.

But he would not open his mouth. Nope. Nup. Don't think so, sorry try again later. He would not admit any such feelings warring inside his body attempting to break free.

He felt Derek's lips against his throat again and for some reason lips to neck contact was like practically begging him to open his mouth and tell the alpha just how much on a scale of 'It's nice,' to 'Holy hell I cannot possibly live without this sensation or I will die,' level of awesome.

But he could do this right? He could keep this itty bitty slice of Derek destroying information to himself until the alpha figured out that Stiles was the best thing to ever happen to him. Ever. Which a) was pretty freaking obvious, thank you very much and b) how had this stupid alpha not figured out that having a Stilinski on your side was equivalent to possessing your very own personal Yoda?

"But you make me want to be," Derek whispered against his skin.

Uh oh. That was it. Self destruct sequence engaged. Stiles was going to do it, he was going to say it. Goddamn he should have realised he could never really keep this kind of thing quiet for very long. Not if Derek turned around and said things which could cause heart failure. Oh God he was already freaking out. What was breathing? How the hell did that shit make any sense? Sucking in oxygen was so not on his to do list right now.

But trying to stop his grossly enlarged heart from bursting out of his chest and slapping into Derek's face was kind of important because he had a feeling it might just ruin the mood. And possibly cause his own death.

"Stiles," Derek said sounding strained. "You stopped breathing."

The alpha pushed him back to get a better look at his face, eyebrows angled in confusion at what he saw. Was Stiles already turning blue? Maybe he might be able to turn into a smurf eventually because that would be pretty damn cool.

But Derek didn't seem to find the idea as amusing as Stiles did. In fact he looked a little bit uneasy. Stiles figured it was probably because he may or may not have been dying.

"Your heart's racing," he muttered fingers sliding across his jaw to cup his face. "Look at me."

So Stiles did. He looked into Derek's eyes and his laser beams seemed to be enough of a jump start to kick his brain back into gear and he opened his mouth gasping and sucking air into his lungs. Because Derek's laser eyes seemed to possess magical brain rebooting qualities that stopped people from asphyxiating in order to keep silent. Jesus how did normal people do that all the freaking time? Keeping silent was like an occupational hazard waiting to happen.

The alpha's eyes were unusually expressive as he watched every thought flicker across Stiles' face which sucked because he was not used to being facially screened by cactus werewolves. Derek didn't speak as he gently pulled Stiles towards the couch in the living room, holding him close and dragging him against him as he sat down.

His fingers were soothing, gentle and Stiles sort of sat there opening and closing his mouth like a fish as he continued to resist the urge to speak about his undying love for Derek.

The alpha nipped playfully against his neck. "Clearly you're not very good at this either."

That wonderful compliment seemed to rouse him out of his- I can't talk so I guess I'll stop breathing- reverie plus the fact that Derek seemed to be laughing silently at him if by the way his chest kept jerking against his back was any indication. Who laughed when their one true love, forever and ever, hallelujah amen started dying? This was not standard procedure here. Not even for werewolves. Though Stiles had always knew Derek was kind of an oddball as werewolves went because he knew Scott.

And Scott was not this fucked up. Although to be fair Scott still possessed most of his family members. But still, offence taken dude.

"Are you kidding me?" he cried. "I am like the best at this. I've lost count of how many times I've saved your ass lately. Without me around you'd be ripped into little werewolf pieces."

Derek snorted. "Are you suggesting I can't survive without you?"

Stiles hated to admit how much he liked the sound of that. Clearly Derek was subconsciously admitting how much he liked Stiles' ass which he would not be able to survive without. Subconscious or not it was still progress.

"Hey, you said it first. I can't help it if it happens to be true."

Derek laughed outright this time and Stiles did his best not to melt into a puddle of goo at the sound because the alpha's laugh was just damn infectious. And also seemed to give him the urge to remove his pants quicker than he could blink which clearly meant there was subtext behind Derek's laugh.

Or some kind of werewolf subliminal- Stiles remove your clothing so I can do you right on the couch- messages. Which of course he was pretty okay with if he could duct tape his mouth first to prevent seriously cheesy love declarations. Maybe he should make a habit of carrying said duct tape around in his pocket for when he needed to seal his mouth shut in Derek's presence. He seemed to eventually stop laughing but by then Stiles was pretty flushed and little Stiles may have been very invested in where this Derek laugh was going.

"Says the kid with a dog whistle," Derek teased and he was relieved that the alpha wasn't beyond teasing him about that little situation because that meant he'd been forgiven.

Stiles did his best to seem unrepentant about the whole thing because he didn't want it to appear like he was desperate for Derek's approval- which he pretty much was- or the fact that he'd felt guilty about it to begin with- which he had. Smoke and mirrors, indeed.

"Well you were gone and I'm warm for your form," he said. "Drastic measures had to be taken."

Stiles heard rather than saw Derek huff out a breath of surprise because although they had enjoyed said sex-apocalypse Stiles hadn't really admitted that he was attracted to him. Not that it should have been a surprise for the alpha who could pretty much smell arousal whenever little Stiles raised his head- oh God pun seriously intended there- and he was basically dripping in teen hormones and et cetera.

Derek was probably just not used to people admitting they were warm for his form as opposed to sharpening their pitchforks or getting out their lighter fluid.

"Did you just…"

"You heard me," Stiles said feeling a little smug and maybe a little bit shameless because if Derek asked him, he was very willing to go into graphic detail about every single inch of Derek's form that he was warm for. "And what did I say about calling me kid?"

Derek growled softly but it seemed sort of teasing when he was kind of cuddling the hell out of Stile's back at the same time- mixed messages much?

"I've learnt my lesson," he admitted and Stiles laughed because the alpha sure as hell had not expected to pick up a werewolf husband that day- hell nobody had expected anything like that to happen. Stiles was definitely at the top of that freaking list.

"You were not expecting anything like me were you?" he asked wondering what Derek had originally thought his mate would be. It had certainly not been Stiles Stilinski that was for sure and if Stiles had picked who'd he'd be together with for the rest of his life he would never have pictured prickly werewolf cactus, Derek Hale.

The universe seemed to always give people what they didn't think they wanted. Or needed.

Derek hesitated and suddenly Stiles was yanked back into the memory of that day and the expression on Derek's face when it had happened. Surprise and anger, mostly anger.

_"Why are you doing this?"_

_Derek's indifference vanished for a moment and his face hardened into an expression of pure rage._

_"I'm not doing anything," he snarled. "You. Would. Not. Submit."_

And suddenly Stiles realized why he'd been so pissed. "You were never going to try to look for a mate were you? You wanted to be alone for the rest of your life. That's why you were so angry."

Derek didn't say anything but his grip tightened on him briefly and Stiles knew- like he knew hunters and werewolves would never ever sit down for a tea party and have a nice chat about hunting each other- that it was true. The alpha had been planning on staying alone for the rest of his days, as like a punishment for Kate, or for maybe his family.

Maybe that was why he'd returned to Beacon Hills to sit alone in solitude for the rest of his life. And Jesus, Mary and Joseph if that wasn't the saddest thing Stiles had ever heard because why the hell did Derek hate himself so damn much?

"But why?" he asked unable to help himself. "Why would you do it? Why punish yourself like that?"

Derek didn't push him into a wall- or better yet through it- or throw him over his shoulder or push him into the carpet. In fact he didn't really do anything but move Stiles out of his lap depositing him gently onto the couch as he climbed warily to his feet, the weight of a thousand universes on his shoulders.

Stiles attempted to get up after him but the alpha pushed him back down with ease, covering his mouth with his own in a brief but deep kiss.

"Because," he said pulling away and licking at his lips like he was tasting Stiles- and damn was that hot- making his pants tighten more than necessary at the thought.

"I deserve it."

And he walked away leaving Stiles to wonder what type of person he'd handed over his heart to.

* * *

Stiles woke up because his face was suddenly smacking painfully against the carpet. He swore incomprehensibly dragging his now throbbing face off of the floor and blearily wondering why he was sleeping on said freaking uncomfortable- may as well have been a bed of nails- floor.

Until he realised he hadn't been not until Derek had kicked him out of the bed. The fucker. Grumbling to himself he pulled himself wearily to his feet rubbing his eyes and checking the time on the bedside table.

Goddamn it was freaking four in the morning. He was going to kick Derek's ass, screw the feelings. He'd been sleeping until the bastard had decided there were too many in the bed and the werewolf freaking said roll over and kicked him out. The jerk. Grumbling to himself he moved towards Derek for some serious eyebrow pulling revenge until he realised that something seriously strange appeared to be happening to his werewolf husband.

He was grinding his teeth in his sleep but that wasn't what was so disturbing because apparently human teeth grinding during sleep was different to werewolf grinding. Because Derek seemed to be gnashing his transformed teeth together, ripping through the skin of his lip and tearing at his own mouth, claws extending as he growled against the mattress.

He was healing too quickly for the pain to wake him up but that didn't stop the sight from freaking the hell out of Stiles. He climbed back into the bed moving quickly to shake Derek awake even if resulted with the alpha deciding to make him his breakfast.

Only he didn't get a chance because apparently alpha's could sense people creeping into their beds and Derek reached out and seized him, claws immediately retracting as he pulled Stiles into the warmth of his embrace. And then shockingly Derek stopped trying to chew his own mouth to pieces. The alpha probably had no idea he even did that when he was sleeping except for the random spots of leftover blood the next day and for a werewolf, blood was not an uncommon thing to wake up covered in.

Stiles freed a hand and slowly reached up to brush gently against the alpha's now perfectly normal face, heart thumping dully in his chest.

He didn't reach his destination because Derek awoke with a violent, defensive snarl seizing his wrist and he made an –oh my God I'm totally shitting myself right now- sound just as Derek swore realising who he was about to seriously start chomping on. He tried to yank his hand back in case the alpha was going to bite it off but Derek wouldn't let him.

It was freaking terrifying that he could shift so quickly from reasonably sane to- I will tear you limb from limb- level of cuckoo crazy. And Jesus weren't werewolves meant to be all furry and cuddly and adorable when they slept in their den or whatever?

"Didn't anyone tell you not to touch a sleeping alpha?" he growled releasing Stiles hand but not pushing him away which meant he probably wasn't going to get eaten or die so he permitted himself to start breathing again.

No promises. Jesus he was not going to be able look at sleeping werewolves the same ever again. There was no way in hell he would ever attempt waking Derek or Scott up ever, not even if he were dying or they were about to sleep walk off a cliff.

Nope he would not be doing that again.

"Didn't anybody tell you not to kick your cuddle buddy out of the bed?" he retorted still struggling to get away because Derek could not be trusted not to start chewing on him in his sleep.

The alpha made a peculiar whiny sound of frustration yanking Stiles back against his solid chest and trapping him there. "Maybe if you didn't move so much I wouldn't have to resort to such measures," Derek said licking a strip up his exposed neck as punishment.

Stiles let out a sound between a groan and a shout of triumph. "Ah ha! So you admit you kicked me out?"

"Stiles," Derek muttered managing to sound both frustrated and –did he detect some amusement at his sudden face to carpet pain?- yep, definitely amusement. "Go to sleep."

"Fine," he huffed. "But if you kick me out of bed or try to eat me again you're on the couch."

Derek kissed his neck and he figured that was as good as an acknowledgment of agreeing to his couch terms so he settled back in to sleep. He contemplated telling Derek he may or may not be a cannibal attempting to eat away his own flesh in his sleep but then decided against it. The alpha might get embarrassed or even worse angry and leave to run around in the woods indefinitely this time. And he did not want that.

Plus it wasn't so bad. Derek had stopped eventually… when he'd pulled Stiles back into his arms.

Oh.

_Oh._

Did that mean what he thought it meant? Was he the reason Derek wasn't trying to eat himself anymore? God he must have been doing that for years. It had to be a stress thing like normal human teeth grinding except it was the violent werewolf- I eat anything that can fit in my jaws- response.

So did he calm Derek down then? Was this some unconscious declaration of what he really meant to the alpha? Had he just gotten past some of the prickles? It was true Derek was a lot more vulnerable when he slept. God this was too much for him to comprehend so early in the morning so he gave the freaking hell up attempting to analyse Derek's clearly warped mind and he fell asleep.

* * *

And when he opened his eyes again it was because his hand had accidentally straightened out in his slow rise into consciousness and had smacked against something warm and definitely skin like. He opened his eyes with a grunt to see what he'd- morning stretch- attacked and was surprised to see Derek growling over him, red mark across the side of his cheek which was already smarting.

Oops.

"See now we're even," he said simply trying not to laugh at Derek's outraged expression.

The alpha's response was to stick his tongue down Stiles' throat so he figured they were at a truce. At least until somebody got pushed out of the bed or started trying to chew off their face again. He was grabbier than usual using the opportunity to touch as much of Derek as he could whilst the moment made it less weird or revealing of the fact that he was Derek obsessed and maybe a little bit greedy about it too.

Derek didn't seem to mind that much responding almost as eagerly as he did, fingers sliding across his naked chest and tweaking his nipples playfully. Stiles groaned and lifted his hips expecting the press of the alpha's body but only finding air.

"Time for school, kid," he said moving in to peck him on the mouth again.

Stiles bit his lip in revenge because his balls had totally dropped and he had had a lot of man sex lately so he was not a freaking kid anymore. Derek growled softly but seemed to get the message.

After they'd gotten dressed and had eaten the alpha insisted on driving Stiles to school. He figured it was probably so they could make out in the alpha's Camaro some more and because he was seriously becoming good at this cactus man mind meld he wasn't surprised when Derek pulled him forward for a considerably sinful kiss when he stopped in the parking lot.

Although they were hidden away in the darkness of the alpha's car so people were hardly likely to scream werewolf porn. At least Stiles hoped so. The entire school might know he was getting freaky with alpha Derek Hale but that didn't mean that he wanted them to see it. He still possessed some dignity after all although it was freaking puddle deep level of dignity but whatever. He could deal with that, it was better than nothing.

Kind of. He eventually pulled away before he started shouting out how much he loved Derek Hale to the school parking lot and the alpha managed to look unsatisfied as if he wanted to christen his car with sexy time as much as Stiles wanted to. He hesitated briefly because he really freaking enjoyed the idea of sexing out Derek's car but there was school, and judgemental people milling about who didn't like their eyes being assaulted by heavy werewolf pornography and lots of laws against exhibitionism and indecent exposure and Stiles didn't really want to get freaky with Derek in a cell.

Although the alpha could probably break them out with his badass manwolf powers and they could live out the rest of their days like fugitives.

Oh God, did being in love mean more of these idiotic fantasies would be plaguing his mind all day? He sighed when a shadow fell across his window. He squinted up through the glass spotting Erica, Boyd and Isaac leaning over the car. He moved to get out but Derek growled seizing his wrist and stopping him.

"Hey, calm down dude," he said. "They're Team Derek."

He ignored the weird twinge of jealousy when Erica grinned at him as if she knew smiling would make him uncomfortable when it was an I'm going to steal your werewolf husband smile before rapping her knuckles against the glass in greeting because although he was currently living in Derek's pants these days that didn't mean some blonde, beautiful bombshell couldn't replace him.

"They want to come with me," Derek growled seeming to hear them speak to him through the glass even if Stiles couldn't. He tried not to fold his arms or make a show of climbing Derek like a tree and yelling 'mine!' at Erica because these were not normal reactions.

And the feelings seemed not only to be trying to explode out from his body at every little intimate opportunity alone with Derek but apparently that also meant he was sea monster, Loch Ness level of green eyed jealousy when it came to people wanting Derek.

"I'm sure Erica does," he muttered surprised when Erica winked at him and the alpha growled.

"Back off," Derek snarled and Stiles would have been using his lacrosse stick for more than just practise if he hadn't seen the alpha looking directly at Erica, eyes red, in an alpha warning. He yanked Stiles into his lap without mentioning he wanted to climb him like a tree also, ignoring Stiles outraged sound as the alpha sealed his mouth over his neck, sucking over the many different layers of sexy time bruises before biting down.

He couldn't help but moan, flushing when he heard Derek's werewolf posse chuckle outside and Erica make an angry sound.

"Don't let her touch you," Derek commanded nipping around the area gently and ignoring the very hard truth of the matter- which happened to be Stiles' erection- pressing against him.

Stiles flushed and managed to free himself from the alpha nearly face planting out of the driver's door as Boyd and Isaac started climbing in the other side. Derek followed after him leaving the car running and pulled him steady.

"What do you mean?" he demanded. "The only way she'd be touching me is so she can kill me to get into your pants."

Derek managed to look shocked.

"Oh honey, you don't really think I want to kill you?" Erica asked and her voice had a seductively playful edge to it.

Stiles blinked as Derek snapped, "Shut up."

Before pulling Stiles against his chest in both a protective and possessive display of manly alphaness as if to keep him away. Away from Erica.

Who was actually in fact looking at him and not Derek.

Wait a minute here. What?

Boyd stuck his head out of the car. "Are you kidding me? You actually didn't know she liked you?"

Stiles' mouth fell open as Derek's grip tightened on him, yet another growl rumbling through his chest as if he expected Stiles to dance straight into the blonde's arms and leave him in the dust as if they hadn't been screwing like rabbits for several days now. And that Stiles hadn't come to the conclusion that he was seriously in love with the jerkface cactus man. But seriously.

Erica liked him? This had to be some sort of opposite day, parallel universe situation because that could be the only logical solution. He pushed Derek's arms off him ignoring the sound of protest as he turned to face him.

"But why the hell were you smiling at her a few days ago when she was all over you?" he demanded wondering if he'd been considering murdering somebody for no reason at all.

Derek look surprised as if he hadn't expected Stiles to have remembered something like that which was stupid because the only way he'd forget anything Derek related would be if the wolfman in question was sticking his tongue down his throat or seriously destroying his brain cells with mind blowing sexy time.

"She was threatening to break my legs if I hurt you," he said still needing to keep a claiming hand on his hip as Stiles spoke to him.

Huh. Well call him a stripper and give him a dancing pole that was not what he'd been expecting to hear. Although of course, no wonder Derek had been smiling- threats of violence always seemed to bring a smile out of him which was one of those backwards- not normal things- he enjoyed.

"Uh right," he said turning back to Erica who still hadn't climbed into the car yet. "So I mean I'm flattered and everything…"

"Yeah yeah," she said waving a hand. "But you smell like you've taken an alpha sex shower, I got it. But if you're ever single…"

Derek made a pretty freaking terrifying sound and Stiles nearly accidentally jumped into his arms because it was totally hot that Derek had thought Erica was competition when he'd been thinking the exact same thing. Figures. They really needed to work out how to communicate better. Erica shrugged at the sound but it was more of a- yeah, yeah whatever I'll back off your human husband for now- sort of shrug before she disappeared into the Camaro as well.

"Uh so where are you taking them all?" he asked glancing at them all chattering away loudly in Derek's car, totally ignoring them as if it was seriously normal to sit in an alpha's car and expect him to take them out for ice cream or something.

God and then he couldn't seem to get that image out of his head because a) that would be so freaking adorable like a death by adorableness level of cuteness and b) there was no way he would miss any opportunity to see the total softy side of Derek that he knew existed underneath all of those cactus spikes and he very rarely had a small glimpse of.

"They want to help find the rogue, in case it hurts anyone else before the wolfsbane kills it," Derek explained already taking Stiles backpack from Isaac's grip in helpful offering out of the side window.

Stiles tried to get over the weirdness that Derek had suddenly become some freaky kind of werewolf soccer mom. Because that was kind of freaking hilarious and really damn bizarre especially for Derek Hale. He'd told the alpha about the hunters shooting the rogue last night after he'd gotten control of his need to burst into cheesy love songs and make long and downright embarrassing declarations of the feelings.

It had definitely been a close call.

He nodded at Derek wondering if he should offer some kind of werewolf hunting service skills here or just go to school where his mind would be on the alpha all day anyway. But Derek just closed the space between them kissing Stiles full on the mouth and pressing his backpack into his hands. "Don't do anything stupid," he warned and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Same to you," he said hearing the warning bell and smirking at the collective wincing of the werewolves in response to the high pitched and grating sound.

He walked into the school thankful that he was walking only slightly unnaturally today, not as badly as Monday so it would be much less embarrassing to be caught by Jackson. Only when he ran into the douchebag on his way to his locker that's not exactly what happened.

It was much freaking better. It was like epic proportions of infinitely better situations at hand here. In fact Stiles was wondering if he was dreaming when he saw it.

Because _Jackson _was limping. And he was limping like maybe his boyfriend hadn't enjoyed being bedridden for several days now and had taken his frustration out on his ass. And it clearly had taken place this morning, or maybe Danny had just been extremely rough and Jackson hadn't had time to heal yet.

"Jackson," he called unable to resist such a golden opportunity for revenge. "Where's your boyfriend today?"

The douchebag somehow managed to look smug. "He's still in bed."

"Is that why you're limping this time?" he asked. "Because he was the one who…"

"Shut up," Jackson snapped face immediately reddening and Stiles tried not to grin. Scott spotted them both and waved at him and he nearly didn't wave back because he didn't want Scott freaking out about Derek again and giving Jackson ammunition when this was such a perfect moment for revenge.

Only when he approached he only wrinkled his nose slightly even coming to stand by him as if it was no big deal and Stiles nearly offered him his first born in gratitude, if of course he were capable of birthing children.

But then Stiles really started to remember why Scott was his true one and only blood brother when he turned to Jackson and covered his nose. "Ugh dude, you reek like Danny and hey, why are you limping?"

He nearly started applauding Scott with unrepressed glee when Jackson went even redder. This was utter perfection. The beginning to a spectacular day. This would be known as the day the douchebag got what was coming to him day, for ever and ever for the sake of wolfkind, amen.

"Because Danny screwed him, that's whym" he said grinning. "And he must have been pretty rough too if Jackson is still feeling sore."

Scott made an awkward sound and took a step back dragging Stiles with him who was outright laughing right now because goddamn Jackson's face was just priceless. He'd never seen him so riled up.

"It was worth it," Jackson spat out eventually before attempting to limp away at a faster than Stiles pace. He let him go already thinking of new material to torture him with later, his chuckles following Jackson's retreating form up the hallway.

* * *

The rest of the day was like awesome in a state of awesome. Everybody soon figured out how much fun Jackson had had the night before even if his limp had all but vanished- damn werewolf healing. Only it didn't take away the smell of Danny so no doubt he was still taking shit from other werewolves.

But still the day had just been going so well. Mr Harris was on sick leave so the sub let them do whatever the hell they wanted which for Stiles included discussing the rogue with Allison and Scott whilst furiously texting Derek all of Allison's hunter information. But then after a while the info ran out, Scott and Allison vanished mysteriously to start making out in secret and then Stiles was just annoying Derek for the hell of it. Because dammit, he would trick this big shot alpha man into loving him, cactus or no cactus. And if that meant pestering him at all hours until he caved into the Stiles lovefest or at least kidnapped him to have his way with him in his lovenest- or was it loveden? He was going to do it.

It was probably about two annoying texts in that Derek stopped replying although Stiles figured he was still reading them and trying to resist his charm which could be applied electronically through his cell phone and melt the ice heart that beat within Derek's chest.

Well, damn he gave himself an A for persistence and he continued texting Derek useless nonsense for the rest of the lesson despite the lack of reply because he could and therefore he would and the alpha was probably too busy to read any of them anyway. So he was feeling the good times as he made his way to sit by Scott- and by extension Allison- in the Cafeteria afterwards still smiling because of Jackson but mainly because of Derek.

Well mostly because of Derek. That was until Scott tapped him on the shoulder interrupting his little- I heart Derek- bubble of distraction.

"You didn't like piss off the alpha this morning did you?" he asked looking tense and glancing at the seat across from them where Allison was sitting as if prepared to randomly shield her with his body. Normal Scott behaviour obviously. He raised an eyebrow wondering if he'd done it the same way Derek liked to.

"Not since I slapped him this morning," he admitted. "Why?"

Scott managed to appear nervous and amused by his words before he pointed through the glass windows which overlooked the school parking lot. He barely needed to make out the dark material of Derek's leather jacket- because apparently he smelt too much like Derek these days so the alpha stole the jacket back- before his stomach dropped.

Oh God was this because of all of the text messages? Was Derek here to kick his ass? The alpha never showed up unannounced like this and where the hell was the rest of his posse? Did Stiles irritating texting drive him to murder them all?

Oh shit. He'd sent them all off to their deaths. Jesus he was in so much trouble.

He was out of his seat before he'd even realised he'd moved. Scott rose from his seat too watching him with concern as his hand gripped his shoulder like he was thinking about stopping him from whatever he was about to do.

Only he didn't know what he was about to do. Because clearly he was in love with an alpha that wanted to kill him. Or something else. But the killing thing seemed more likely.

"Dude," Scott said shaking him a little to get his attention. "You okay?"

He couldn't tear his eyes away from Derek who seemed to be firing off his laser beams at a higher power setting because they appeared to be melting his bones. "No," he said finally still unable to look away. "I need…"

Derek. He needed Derek. Like now would be nice. Right now. Because something was up and it could have to do with the rogue. Or hunters. Or Gerard. Or maybe Derek did just want to yell at him for distracting him all day.

He prayed that was all it was.

"Okay," Scott said seeming to realise what he wanted without him needing to articulate it. "I'll go with you."

And then he dragged Stiles out of his seat, abandoning their trays of food in search of much more life threatening company. To the alpha that was waiting for him outside.

God he really hoped Derek was at school so he could break Stiles' phone into a billion pieces.

But even he knew he wasn't that lucky.


	12. Nullus

Chapter for you ;) because I have a computer and I have a brain that knows words :D

Enjoy!

* * *

**Nullus.**

Stiles didn't know what to do when Scott helped him sneak out into the school parking lot to talk/ be mauled by his alpha boyfriend.

He wanted to run or offer up his phone as like a sign of –dear God I will never message you again I so swear to all higher powers in the universe, now please don't eat me- surrender. But then Derek happened to look mightily attractive in his gang leather- though technically ownership of said gang leather was compromised of late since it was drenched in the irresistible odour that was Stiles Stilinksi- and he seemed to prefer the idea of resuming generic sex position so Derek could have his wicked way with him instead.

But then Scott made an odd, nervous sound in his throat at approaching the big, bad alpha and Stiles suddenly remembered he existed and that he could probably smell the party going on in his pants at that moment and that was definitely too much information for Scott to handle.

Strangely enough the alpha cactus man didn't attempt any big, macho demonstrations of Stiles' ass possession in front of Scott- he didn't even blink at their close but total friendship and camaraderie proximity- which clearly meant he was too busy picturing his slow and painful death.

Or the slow and painful death of his werewolf posse who may or may not have been dead already because they were strangely absent. Or maybe the rogue's slow and painful death. Or Gerard's.

Stiles wasn't exactly sure who but he knew Derek's- picturing someone's slow and painful death- face when he saw it. And somebody was definitely dying in his mind right now and that may or may not have spelt bad news.

"Are you here to kill someone?" he asked as this was something he- as the alpha's better half- needed to know. "Because you're usually out to kill people. It's not me is it? I mean, yeah okay I'll admit I overdid it with all those messages…"

"I'm joining the Argents on their hunt," Derek said watching Stiles as his mouth fell open. Seriously did he forget when they tried to kill him? Or was he too busy organising that hunter/werewolf tea party? Damn.

"You what? The hunt for the rogue? Did you forget the part where they shot you full of wolfsbane a couple days ago and tried to _kill _you?" he demanded gravitating towards the alpha unconsciously. "And where the hell are the three minors you took on your little rogue expedition? Are they dead already? I mean did you kill them yourself? Or did you and the rogue share?"

Derek growled, moving closer as well, almost unthinkingly his expression hardening as he looked at him. Stiles was torn between punching some sense into his ridiculous freaking face or jumping his bones in front of Scott in the school parking lot.

He was still mulling over his options.

"They're with Chris right now," Derek explained because apparently he and Allison's father were on a first name basis now. Holy Jebus how many tea parties had they had to get to this level of familiairty? "He figured it was time we ended the rogue for good and they need our help to do it."

Stiles could see the logic in it but it didn't make the idea any less stupid. Hunters and werewolves teaming up was like a priest and a hooker getting together to discuss the economy- not something that was ever going to happen.

Until now which could only mean that hell had frozen over and the apocalypse was on the horizon. Jesus what the hell was Derek thinking?

"Is Gerard with them?" he asked stepping closer to place his hand against Derek's- oh hell excuse me while I remove my pants- chest, pushing him gently. "You realise that this is going to get you killed right?" he said voice low and tight, strained.

Because the feelings seemed to coincide with a living crazy ass, alpha werewolf husband not a dead and ripped into tiny pieces one. He didn't like it, he didn't trust it and there was no way in hell he was not going with him too.

Derek's fingers wrapped around his hand softly pulling it free but he didn't let go and Stiles wanted to blush and swoon and jump into his arms, bridal style whilst declaring his love like in one of those cheesy musicals where everybody feels the need to break into song without explaining why.

Stiles was very temped to do that himself, even more so when Derek- still holding onto his hand because he was also madly in love with his ass and was trying to communicate this love through hand holding- squeezed the hand in his grip as if in a comforting way.

Conclusion: Stiles was going to be doing some serious swooning in the near future. Prepare for immediate and painful embarrassment.

"He broke off from the group several days ago," Derek said in a hard voice. "They think he's lost it and they know he stopped following the code."

Ooh the big, bad hunter code. If he broke that then that had to mean something was wrong with him. God talk to the dude for like two seconds and an idiot could figure that out for themselves. This was not off to a geriatric ass kicking start.

"I'm going with you."

Derek's expression hardened and he growled at the idea which clearly meant big, cranky, alpha says no. He opened his mouth to protest but Derek was already talking and that was such a rare occurrence that he felt the need to sacrifice his own voice to listen.

Maybe Mr werewolf cactus would finally admit his undying love for Stiles and his booty and they could go off skipping into the sunset or screw in his jeep or something.

It could happen.

"No you're not," Derek snarled a little more forcefully than usual as if he didn't trust Stiles to listen to him the first time which a) was a very valid point because that'd been exactly what he'd been about to do and b) since when had Derek been able to figure out the whimsical thoughts of his brain?

He opened his mouth to protest but Derek put his free hand over it.

On his mouth. Derek literally shut him up with his own _hand. _What the fuck? That was not where Stiles would have preferred to have Derek's hand right now.

'Listen to me Stiles," he said. "I came to tell you what was going on," he paused when Stiles stuck his tongue out against the werewolf barrier and started licking the demon hand preventing his speech. Derek growled and wrenched it away learning his lesson pretty damn quickly. "But I need you safe, not running around in the woods with your jar of dust, alright?"

Stiles tried not to freak out because what the freaking hell? Had Derek finally discovered how to read his mind? Jesus, that had been his plan exactly despite his dad who used to be the Sheriff teaching him how to use a gun- although it had been a pretty dangerous and life threatening affair for the both of them, even with the gun unloaded- he was pretty sure he wouldn't be running around in something black and tight like freaking Stiles Croft- Wood Raider or something.

That was just not going to happen. Although he was sure Derek would appreciate him in something black and tight. Jesus his mind was more perverted than a Catholic school girl's.

Scott cleared his throat awkwardly and they both turned to him as if they'd forgotten he was there- Stiles definitely had. Oops sorry, Scott.

But he was so loved up these days being around Derek was Scott's equivalent to being around Allison- everybody just sort of ceased to exist like an alien planet had come in and wiped them all out while Derek had his tongue down his throat or something.

And Stiles would be perfectly be okay with some tongue in throat action right about now. But judging from the redness of his best friend's face he was already pretty uncomfortable and they weren't even doing anything. Stiles didn't know why he was so freaked until he realised how close they were standing to each other, Derek's fingers still intertwined with his. Plus the alpha's other- non Stiles licked- hand appeared to have snuck unawares beneath his shirt in the middle of their heated argument, sliding across his skin.

Oops. So they may have been acting out the prelude to a porno in front of his best friend who still was trying to get over the fact that Stiles even smelt of sex. No wonder his eyes were so wide.

Well Stiles was not letting go even if it made Scott cry so his blood brother was just going to have to deal with it. Because sometimes his alpha boyfriend showed up a school to tell him that he was teaming up with a bunch of trigger happy psychos and they felt the need to feel each other up in the school parking lot in front of Scott in celebration of the news.

That's life. Or Stiles' life apparently where he was not allowed to run through the woods with his alpha husband sprinkling magic, mountain ash, dust.

Well fine, he'd just have to think of something better to do with his time because apparently being in love with stupid inarticulate alpha's meant that you wanted to be on their good side. Damn this would not help his many various evil schemes in the near future if he kept wanting to make Derek happy- which was also pretty much impossible because how the hell was he meant to be able to tell if the idiot was happy?- if that was even an emotion available to him, jeez.

"I'll go with you," Scott offered out of nowhere after getting over the fact that Stiles clearly wanted to climb Derek like a tree. He approached them almost warily as if expecting Derek to rip his throat out for offering and Stiles didn't put it past him. But seriously. What the hell was Scott thinking? Where was Allison when you needed him to stop coming up with stupid ideas?'

Derek frowned.

"What?" Stiles demanded as if he hadn't heard this new display of mental inactivity leave Scott's mouth, turning towards him and ready to bring some sort of intellectual pain because he couldn't really punch his best friend in the face. Or could he?

"The rogue's hurt too many people," Scott said. "I've got to do something."

"He may go after Allison," Derek said in a serious tone that did not match the glint of pure evil in his eyes. Stiles nearly burst out into hysterical laughter because he may or may not have mentioned just how whipped Scott was on Allison to soothe any of Derek's –Scott's going to steal Stiles away- fears or werewolf- ripping face off- instincts.

And now the bastard was using that to his advantage! Stiles was so going to kick his ass later. Scott nodded solemnly as if Derek was speaking the truth and not manipulating his feelings to get Scott on his rogue destruction team.

"You are so dead," Stiles hissed under his breath hoping Scott wouldn't hear him but he was already furiously texting his girlfriend to tell her he was off to fight werewolf crime and be a superhero or whatever so he was in Allison land where everything was Allison and nothing hurt.

Jesus, Allison was literally his magic word, mention it and you could get Scott to do anything. Why the hell had he mentioned that to Derek? The alpha smirked and his response to Stiles' death threat was to stick his tongue down his throat which a) finally sweet Jesus and b) that sure as hell did not mean he wasn't still going to kill him.

Although he did have to appreciate it. He'd always known he'd needed a partner equally as diabolical to match his evil genius but he'd always just figured Lydia would be the perfect candidate for that role. Who knew Derek had some serious evil genius lurking beneath all of that werewolf muscle?

"Aww Stiles c'mon man," Scott whined when he finally looked up and realised they were partaking in hockey of the tonsil variety. Stiles broke away gasping and Derek instantly sealed his mouth over his neck, marking him.

Scott made a sound again and said a very bad word which Stiles was pretty impressed by, impressed enough that he managed to keep his moans silent. Well most of them. He tried and that's what counted.

Because despite how it looked he was not making werewolf porn in the school parking lot, again. Seriously.

"Just give me a minute," Derek growled against his skin and Stiles tried not to let his heart jump spectacularly at his words but that was impossible because his heart had gone rogue and was convinced that it was in love with Derek and therefore ignoring the commands of his brain at every opportunity.

Stiles didn't start gasping until he was sure that Scott had disappeared completely into the woods, following the scent of Derek's trail to find the rest of the werewolf/hunter gang of misfits which now included Derek's werewolf posse.

But then came, "Dude I can still hear you!"

And Stiles figured they could be in Antarctica and Scott would still hear them with his stupid wolfy senses so he yelled back.

"Oh, Derek harder!"

Laughter immediately transformed into a strangled moan when Derek instantly complied pulling him into the cover of the woods as if he'd changed his mind and was going to permit Stiles to chase after him through the forest with magic dust after all.

But then he pushed him up against a nearby tree and it was clear where his priorities lay in the- screw Stiles senseless to stop any arguments and/or heated discussions- land of Derek hotness.

And that could only mean…

The alpha had finally figured out Stiles' one and only weakness.

Derek's fine as hell body being pressed against every inch of his own. Oh Jesus how was he ever meant to concentrate on getting his way ever again if Derek's solution was to fuck the fight out of him?

And damn did that sound hot. Oh God, wasn't the alpha just so damn smart? And sexy? And cranky pants cactusy? And growly? And emotionally stunted?

If they weren't already gay werewolf married Stiles would put a goddamn ring on that shit.

Because Derek was perfect in every freaking way even when he was annoying and possibly working towards Stiles domination and world domination and other dominations. Even then he was still freaking attractive.

God, Stiles had a serious problem. Maybe he should ask Lydia if there was a way to cure being so damn whipped on the alpha although she'd probably just find his problem amusing.

Scott? Right like he had any control over his feelings for Allison.

Allison. Hmm. Yes that could work. She had to know how to control the feelings otherwise she wouldn't have Scott on such a short leash and doing her bidding all the time. He was going to have to have a little bit of a –please help me I have alphaitus problems and love disease and cactus infection- chat.

Though probably not right now because Derek seemed to be removing his shirt.

"Hey!" he cried as his clothing was abruptly ripped from his body. "Are you really going to screw me in the woods?"

"Yes," Derek growled out removing his own jacket and then shirt as Stiles gaped soundlessly at him.

Oh sweet Lord, the wolfman was serious. Didn't he know how illegal that was? Or that his dad used to be the Sheriff? Or that his best friend was probably like a couple hundred metres away? Or hell that they might not be far enough away from the school to not be seen?

Any arguments flew out of his mind when Derek's funny business pressed against his own through the fabric of their jeans and little Stiles was suddenly ready to go. He huffed out a surprised breath when Derek's fingers dipped below the waistband of his pants going for the werewolf sex prize because they still did not seem to understand the concept of foreplay.

Not that either of them cared that much.

Stiles eagerly pushed forward, jerking his hips against the alpha's as his arms found purchase around his neck. Derek yanked him off of his feet so suddenly that he almost let go and hit his head on the trunk of the tree, grumbling out his irritation before the alpha's mouth was at his neck again.

"Not that I'm protesting here but…"

Derek silenced him with a forceful kiss, pressing him more firmly against the tree- that led to Stiles wriggling his ass to get away from said demonic tree because dammit, pornography had lied to him about screwing against the hard surfaces of trees- which were not remotely comfortable.

It was freaking bruising his spine. And sweet mother of alpha- did everyone forget that bark felt like goddamn sandpaper rubbing against bare skin?

He winced when Derek got a little bit too sexy man, eager and he didn't have to feel it to know it was going to leave one hell of a bruise.

But then the alpha took part in his freaky mind voodoo powers again pulling Stiles off of the tree and gently lowering him into the fallen leaves scattered all over the forest floor. He ignored the twinge of memory of a different person lying on the forest floor, broken and lifeless- twisting his hips up for the sensation of the moment, for Derek, always for Derek.

Because he loved the stupid wolfman so much that he was going to let him screw him in the dirt. And somehow because it was Derek doing the screwing there was no creepy or disturbing feelings it was just really freaking hot which meant only that he was creepy and disturbing for liking it so much.

Well what else was new? Derek's hotness had opened a can of psychological issues for Stiles from the very beginning and this was just another day at the sexy time office. He extended his neck up, fingers tightening on the alpha as lifted his head, seeking.

Derek's mouth met his own reassuringly whilst his hands expertly removed Stiles' pants not even attempting to pretend that the hand moving torturously against his crotch was an accident. Stiles swore twisting his legs and jerking his free hands until he was moving too much and there was flipping brought on entirely by the too eager flailing of limbs.

The alpha looked surprised from his position beneath him on the dead leaves and moved to reassert his cactus- I will forever be the big spoon- dominance only Stiles hands were on his chest forcing him back down.

Derek looked momentarily uncertain having some sort of internal freak out that was not at all like him but then Stiles slid his fingers across the bite mark that his teeth had left on the alpha's shoulder and he seemed to settle with a warning growl.

Stiles licked his lips, fingers brushing down Derek's chest, questing and curious, travelling over the ridges of his muscles, flittering over his ribcage while the alpha shuddered beneath him. He felt reckless and powerful all at once, like Derek was at his mercy this time and emboldened by that feeling he undid the button on the alpha's jeans.

Derek tilted his hips up in encouragement removing Stiles' pants as well and after the awkward- why does anybody wear jeans if they know they might have to spend time doing the tight jeans removal dance in front of somebody before sex- removal Stiles was back on Derek again feeling the heat of his body and loving every second of it.

His hands gripped the alpha's forearms and Derek stilled his rolling hips before Stiles really got into his sexy time rhythm. He muttered out some unintelligible insult whilst Derek literally ripped off his underwear. He sighed because not only was he going to have to walk around the hallways for the rest of the day reeking of Derek sex but now he was going to have endure the whole thing commando.

The alpha removed his own last itty bitty, devil work of clothing that was preventing their sexy time from progressing further and then they were totally naked and Stiles was jerking his hips all over again despite the feeling of Derek's fingers pressing into him in an attempt to stop the movement.

The alpha released his grip as if he realised trying to stop Stiles from his sexy time was like trying to stop stupid people from existing in the world- somebody always asked how to spell orange eventually.

The friction was doing all sorts of things to Stiles' brain and he tried to keep his lovey dovey feelings to himself but it was always a lot freaking harder to hide when Derek was looking at him.

Especially when he was looking at him like that.

He was raking air into his lungs a little breathlessly when Derek's hands finally found their way to his inviting ass but he hadn't shouted out anything about Derek needing to shape up because he needed a wolfman and his heart was set on him.

Or anything about chills that were multiplying. Nope. Nothing about that at all.

So he figured they were doing pretty good.

That was until he realised they had no lube. Shit.

"Lube, Derek?" he gasped out when Derek seemed to ignore his words and penetrated his unlubed ass with a finger. He winced, expecting pain but there was nothing but the stretch, Derek's fingers already slick.

Had this werewolf made a habit of carrying around lube in his pocket? Stiles was okay with this.

In fact he was making very vocal how very okay with this he was after Derek made progress with his third finger- damn that cactus man moved fast- before the alpha was pulling them out and Stiles was cursing him straight into the pits of fiery hell for the manoeuvre.

And then he just stopped. Stiles waited and when no giant werewolf cock was there to greet his ass he raised a questioning eyebrow at his werewolf husband. Only Derek seemed to be watching him pointedly from his position underneath him and Stiles finally cottoned on to whatever the hell was happening right now.

Because oh the holiest of shits Derek clearly wanted him to take care of that part. His hand wrapped fervently around the alpha, encircling him in the heat of his fingers as he pumped his length. Derek moaned tipping his head back into the ground and closing his eyes, exposing the underside of his throat as Stiles continued to jerk him off, mesmerised by the sounds he was making and the expression on his face.

Damn that wolfman was hotter than humanly possible. But there was something else Stiles wanted to see more than that and he shifted into a comfortable position working his way over Derek's cock before reaching around and finding the sexy time destination.

And then he kept his eyes locked on the alpha's face as he plunged down onto Derek's cock. He groaned ignoring the urge to shut his eyes as the sensation hit him, eyes falling on the alpha's who's were already open and watching him.

Derek's mouth had fallen open and the alpha reached up to seize his thighs offering no more control than that and Stiles had to think of terrible non sexual things so as to not to be pushed over the edge by the fact that Derek was giving him the reins.

Even if that also meant he was going to be doing all the work. He bit his lip as he pulled himself up again feeling the slide of Derek melting his flesh before he lowered himself back down with a sigh.

It was slow work but hotter than ever because he got to see exactly how much Derek was enjoying himself. And Jesus that cactus man was certainly being more expressive than usual. Eventually he worked out a pace that pushed them both closer to the edge and Derek's muscles flexed and tightened uselessly but responsively beneath him as if he was fighting an urge to move.

And then his lack of movement became too much for the alpha because he sat up abruptly nearly throwing Stiles off of his feet, hand pressed against his back keeping him in place and suddenly much closer. He was in Derek's lap and the alpha was still inside him but now their foreheads could have freaking touched if they wanted to. And in his love crazed brain Stiles really wanted to.

He stopped, blinking owlishly at the alpha as he tried to keep the instinct and stupid feelings which were stupid and feelingly to himself.

It wasn't until he noticed the red like tinge to the hazel hue of Derek's eyes that maybe he wasn't the only one almost losing control.

"Move," Derek growled low, dangerous, inhuman.

Stiles gasped, heart pumping desperately as he tightened on the werewolf cock inside him unthinkingly. The alpha made an agonized sound, digging his claws into the dirt to keep from thrusting forward because he was still trying to give Stiles all the control.

And apparently his wolf wanted other things. Jesus Stiles wondered what would happen if he suggested screwing the alpha instead. Derek's mouth kissed across his shoulder and Stiles started moving again, fingers tightening around the alpha as his own hands worked their way to the mark on Derek's shoulder.

It fascinated him. Because it still hadn't healed. Maybe his teeth had some werewolf healing preventing voodoo but the fact that it was still there made his thrusts a little more erratic and his throat close up with wanton sounds of sexual appreciation. And then suddenly it was all too much and he was coming, fingers accidentally biting deeply into the mark he'd left on Derek as his eyes closed and his head tipped back into a- not so very silent- groan of satisfaction.

The alpha snarled, following him soon after and Stiles pressed his face into Derek's chest rambling out words of nonsense which thankfully he was aware enough to notice did not mention one little syllable of love. He was feeling pretty damn good about his control actually. Trust that to be the moment when Derek lost his.

Stiles grinned into the alpha's chest and moved to slide off of him but Derek's clawed hands seized his legs, pinning him down. He gasped in pain when they broke the skin, blood bursting freely and running down his legs.

Derek swore and relaxed his grip but it took much more concentration than usual because apparently something else had been happening in the meantime that Stiles hadn't noticed. That was until that something started pressing up against the rim of his ass.

His knot. Jesus that was it wasn't it? It had to be.

He cried out when it jerked into him, moving tortuously slowly as it reached the base of Derek's man business which had suddenly decided to bless Stiles with the wondrous gift of knotting. The alpha's hands rubbed soothing circles across his lower back, the tension in his body revealing his own concern. Derek clearly hadn't intended for that to happen.

And Stiles didn't know whether to feel guilty or annoyed. Sure he'd said that he'd wanted it. Hell he'd been annoyed it had taken so long for it to happen a second time but Holy God a little freaking warning would have been nice. Although Derek hadn't even warned him the first time his virgin ass had been presented with the very same dilemma so he should hardly be shocked.

"I- you okay?" Derek asked quietly and Stiles figured that was the only- oops looks like I knotted you, sorry about that- apology he was going to get.

"Once I get used to the tennis ball in my ass? Sure," he snapped flinching when Derek rotated his hips, the tug pulling at his insides.

And then he was moaning when Derek somehow magically managed to press the knot against his prostate.

"No," Stiles groaned trying to squirm away from the oh so sensitive werewolf knot to prostate experience but the alpha wouldn't let up. In fact the bastard moved his hips, slowly so that it started to rub against it. And there was such a thing as too much freaking pleasure, dammit.

"Holy God," he gasped. "Derek, please."

The alpha smirked into his skin but he sounded more breathless than Stiles which made him want to kill him less. But oh sweet mother of all things in the living universe from single celled organisms to a multicellular explosion of organisms- what the alpha was doing felt so spectacular that he wanted to cry.

And then Derek chuckled like Stiles' man pain was amusing and the vibrations just took him to the edge of the universe and tossed him over it, shooting another orgasm through him that was uncomfortable as it was hot when he tightened over the knot inside him.

But after a few more twitching aftershocks of torture Derek finally followed emptying the Niagara Falls of his semen into Stiles' ass. He eventually slid out of him, separating their rapidly cooling bodies as the alpha kept him up close and personal.

Stiles had to admit he was a little shakier than usual because of very obvious -knot really- reasons and he didn't comment on his commando status or the semen which would soon be running down his legs because he had no underwear anymore.

Derek smiled at him, the gaze of his laser beam eyes a little more expressive than usual and Stiles ignored the soulful probing pulling the alpha closer for a bruising kiss.

"Was that an in case we die fuck?" he asked when the alpha finally pulled away.

Derek's expression was blank but his eyes were hard. "Maybe" he grunted out turning away from him to retrieve their clothes and completely missing the shit eating grin on Stiles' face. He managed to school it into a politely interested expression before he turned back.

"I feel flattered," he said. "Should I feel flattered?"

Derek's answer was to help him dress by shoving a shirt over his head thereby blocking his line of vision as well as his mouth and that was the only reply he received besides a non-committal noise from the back of the alpha's throat.

Stiles continued to talk until Derek had them both fully dressed and only looking like they'd taken a slight dip in the sex pool. "If they shoot you when your back is turned don't say I didn't warn you," he said and the alpha pulled him back in for another kiss.

It was kind of freaking nice. Nice enough to make him start saying the dreaded L word.

"I'll let you take out the bullets," Derek promised yanking Stiles closer to seal his mouth over his neck and barely preventing love declarations by the distraction. He let the alpha mark him the hell up again as he struggled to stop his legs from feelings like jelly and kept his mouth strictly closed.

"Don't do anything stupid," Derek said yet again. Was this becoming a thing for him now? Stiles was offended and in smooshy love but still seriously offended. Only his level of irritation seemed to be getting smothered by Derek feelings.

So Stiles only waved his hand in the air in response which nobody could see but he figured the universe got the message and with one last press of human teeth to his neck Derek melted into the trees and was gone.

Leaving Stiles with the sexpocalypse aftermath which was the fact that he had no underwear, an ocean of werewolf semen slowly starting to seep from his ass and a judging population of werewolf high schoolers- say Jackson- who would smell it and by extension neuter him.

He was seriously screwed and not in the Derek way, the shitty way, the- I may be traumatised for the rest of my life- way.

Awesome.

He sighed. It would be suicide to go back into the school now but he started the walk of shame anyway because he liked to inflict his own manpain, leaving their little sex den to walk back to the parking lot.

He couldn't exactly run for it. He had no car because stupid alpha man had insisted on driving him that morning and he couldn't just walk out- there was like five miles of woods surrounding the school and the rogue would probably smell him before he'd taken two steps. He was basically trapped until school ended and Derek or his dad came to get him.

Shit. He was totally boned. That was until he realised he was wearing Derek's leather jacket and coincidentally there also happened to be something poking him in the ribs. He pressed his hand curiously into the pocket of the jacket locating the object which was definitely a set of keys- no doubt to Derek's rape den which a) where the hell was this rape den? And b) when could he and Derek have consensual sexy time in said rape den?- and he yanked them free realising with shock that they were his own.

And then he spotted the telltale hood of his jeep among the other cars and nearly started shouting his praise to the heavens.

God he loved Derek. Even if he owned a hypothetical rape den.

He hurried over to his car at a turtle slow pace because he'd just had the screwing of his life and he was not ready to start moving like a human being yet, taking a few tries to climb inside of the jeep as well because apparently his ass did not want to bend that way.

He started the ignition glancing around for a truancy officer before he reversed the hell outta there. He was driving towards the exit when he spotted Jackson outside on his cell phone- to Danny probably- and literally felt his heart stop.

Because oh shit that was Jackson. And he smelt of Derek sex. And Niagara Falls semen and possibly hypothetical rape dungeons.

Fuck, fuckidy, fuck, fuck.

Jackson seemed to notice him, eyes suddenly widening and nostrils flaring as if he could smell the lingering Derek sexy party from inside the jeep. He opened his mouth to say something but Stiles slammed his foot on the accelerator and got the hell out of dodge before his ego could take anymore hits.

Although he was pretty sure he spotted Jackson laughing in the revision mirror.

* * *

He texted Allison after his- scrubbing repeatedly and hosing down with extremely high water pressure- purge of alpha sex smell. His hair was still dripping wet from the shower when she replied promising to stop by after school and he was so glad that Scott had chosen her to be whipped by.

Because in this instant it seemed to be benefitting him.

And then because apparently being knotted for the second time ever in his human existence took a lot out of him he made his way into their bedroom and crashed, falling asleep almost instantly.

When he awoke again Allison was hovering over him and looking concerned. He shouted out his surprise and then fell off the edge of the bed becoming ensnared in the death trap that was the sheets.

"Jesus are you trying to give me a heart attack?" he cried. "How the hell did you get in?"

"The front door," she said crouching down to free him from the death trap tangle. "You didn't lock it."

"Oh," he said as she helped him to his feet.

"You ready?" she asked retrieving her keys from her purse. Stiles frowned having a very bad feeling already. Was she going to take him out into the woods and teach him how to shoot Derek with an arrow when he pissed him off or something?

"For what?"

"You said you wanted to talk and I have the perfect place for that" Allison said with a blinding smile.

* * *

The perfect place turned out to be the girliest looking coffee shop in the history of Beacon Hills. Derek wouldn't be caught dead there or even hacked up into little pieces there. There was so much pink. Too much pink actually. Stiles wanted to scratch his own eyes out.

It was like a vomit inducing rainbow of femininity. He had the sudden powerful urge to put ribbons in his hair and use feminine hygiene products just from walking through the front door.

"Allison," he whined. "I wanted to talk about my masculinity not be emasculated."

He spotted what appeared to be a fluffy cat hanging from the ceiling and nearly died of horror.

"Oooh sorry," she said seizing his arm and dragging him to the counter. "But they really make the best coffee. Scott loves it."

Stiles laughed because the fact that Scott loved it was almost as impossible as Derek joining them for tea after an intense yoga session. It was clearly another side effect of being whipped which he needed her help to work on.

Allison placed her order and raised an eyebrow questioningly at him and he wanted to laugh whilst simultaneously punching himself in the face.

"Really Allison?" he said. "You think it's a good idea to stick caffeine in me?"

"Right," she agreed with one of her friendly disarming smiles that made Stiles want to hang himself from the ceiling like the stuffed cat. Maybe it was one of her –getting people so whipped they literally can think of nothing else- secrets.

Well if she was willing to teach he'd sure as hell be her grasshopper.

She dragged him over to a booth- no doubt so he could cower away and reassemble the broken pieces of his manhood- to await her order. She put her hands under her chin and looked at him.

"You're usually not this quiet," she noted. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

"Uh…" he began grasping at air as he tried to think of a way to explain the feelings to her.

"Scott told me about today. Is that what you wanted to talk about? You being in love with Derek?"

Jesus did everybody in Beacon Hills possess the skill to read minds?

"I- how did you know?" he spluttered.

"Scott was watching you both and he's never seen you like that before so he asked me about it. It wasn't that hard to guess, I mean on Monday you were so happy that Scott thought you were having a mental breakdown."

He grinned because yeah being screwed out of your mind definitely made you walk with a skip in your step- even if he'd technically been walking strangely for other reasons after all the werewolf sex.

"Does Scott know?" he asked tapping away at the table anxiously because he hadn't expected to be caught out so quickly. Allison was a lot sneakier than he'd thought.

The waitress drifted by giving Allison her coffee with a friendly smile as if she recognised her which she probably did before leaving them alone. "I think he suspects," she admitted. "That's probably why he offered to join the hunt with my dad. He wants to get to know Derek a little better especially seeing as you've been spending so much time together lately. He misses you."

Stiles tried not to feel too guilty about that. "He said something about responsibility, maybe a spiderman reference thrown in there as well. He didn't mention anything about wanting to hang out with Derek."

Oh God. Scott and Derek.

Hanging out.

The sky had to be falling or something. That was just too weird. Allison smiled.

"I told him to say that," she said. "To make it seem like he was protecting me so it wouldn't make you both suspiscious."

Stiles had to lean back into the seat he was so astounded by her words. He'd really never even considered that for one second. "Well played," he admitted.

"Thanks," she grinned swirling the froth in her cup with a spoon. "So tell me more about this. Have you told Derek yet?"

"My God no!" he cried nearly hitting her cup as his hands swung out wildly in attempt to destroy anything girly that his hands touched. Allison flinched and pulled the mug closer to herself quickly learning her lesson. "Have you seen that brooding alpha? Feelings are like his self destruct button."

"So not telling him, okay" she said quickly, eyeing his hands nervously as if he had no control over them- which he sort of didn't but whatever. "Then what's the problem?"

"I keep almost saying it!" he said lowering his voice. "I can't stop myself I even get some of the words out."

Allison took a cautionary sip of her drink. "Maybe it's because you haven't told anyone yet."

"I just told you," he said wanting to smash his fists against the pink table again all manly like because he had word vomit problems and feeling problems.

She shook her head. "No you didn't I already guessed. It's gotta be because you haven't actually said it yet. Keeping something as big as that to yourself is definitely bad."

He frowned liking the sound of her advice but still somehow mistrusting it. He was a paranoid dude. "So what's your solution tell every random stranger about my manly feelings for Derek?"

She laughed at that. "No but you should say it."

"Say what?" he said evasively, avoiding eye contact and she laughed again.

"C'mon Stiles just say it. You'll feel better when you do."

He hesistated taking a deep breath. "Alright, I love him," he admitted and the world didn't end or spontaneously combust so he figured it was looking good.

"Who?" Allison asked innocently.

He scowled at her because apparently she was the female anti-christ. "You know who I'm talking about."

"No, sorry," she said sickly sweet. "Who?"

Stiles sighed because all women were evil geniuses and could not be entrusted with anything remotely secretive if the human race were to continue. "Fine I love Derek, happy?" he demanded.

"Hmm I know a fair few Derek's," she said idly twirling her spoon through her drink. "Which one?"

"Seriously? Oh my God woman you're ridiculous. I. Love. Derek. Hale. Okay? Now can you help me or not?"

"I just did," she said looking incredibly smug. "How do you feel now?"

He thought about it because she was clearly a wise and thoughtful love guru and he should heed her advice. To his surprise he actually did feel better and he felt closer to Allison at the same time like maybe he'd shared some big secret- which he had- and she'd totally been a badass about it- which she had.

It seemed a lot like a win, win situation.

"Better, thanks," he said. "Less of a urge to sing show tunes and write sappy love songs."

"That's always good," she said smiling around her cup. "So what other problems does Derek have besides an adverse fear of emotions?"

"The beauty is in the discovery," Stiles said voice laced heavily with sarcasm. "To name a few… uh- I recently discovered he likes to attempt to tear at his own mouth with his big werewolf teeth in his sleep. That always makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside."

Allison blinked. "Huh so like human's grinding their teeth in their sleep only…"

"Only Derek's tearing at his own flesh. Yeah that's about right."

"My God that's horrible," she said. "Does it wake him up?"

"No he just sleeps straight through it and it's probably like infinity on the disturbing scale," he told her trying not to remember just how freaky it had looked at the time.

"Have you tried waking him up?" she asked. "Or is that exactly what you're not meant to do?"

Stiles remembered Derek nearly mauling him for attempting to stroke his face all romantic like and smiled. "Yeah not the best idea," he said. "But I feel need to blame his mental instability on the demon woman named Kate so-"

Allison nearly dropped the cup. And then Stiles finally realised that Allison who had crazy Gerard as her grandpa- the grandpa who was out to avenge the death of his daughter- was related to Kate. Kate Argent. Duh. Jesus why hadn't he asked her about this ages ago? And he probably shouldn't have just insulted her in front of Allison. What was the accepted rule here?

"Oh shit," he gasped. "She's your…"

"My Aunt," Allison said quietly. "At least she was until Peter killed her."

Stiles was at brain level overload of information. "Peter as in…"

"Derek's uncle, yes," Allison said looking around the café nervously. "Listen I'm not sure I should be…"

"What the hell happened?" he demanded cutting her off. "Why did Peter kill Derek's girlfriend?"

"She wasn't his girlfriend Stiles," she said and he was astounded by the sadness in her voice. Did she still want Kate to be his girlfriend now? Well that would be weird, she'd be living in a totally undead- night of the living zombie- situation and he was fairly certain Derek would draw the line at necrophilia.

This was all too wrong.

"Listen to me very carefully," she said her voice hard and hunter like. "This is Derek's life we're talking about, his own horrors and traumatic past which you shouldn't be hearing this from me. You should ask him."

"Please Allison," he begged ignoring her warning. "I have to know."

"Okay," she said nodding to herself. "Okay so when Kate was younger she crossed a line, like a big line. She broke the code. And she convinced a couple of humans that the Hale's were rogues and violent."

"Convinced…?"

Her eyes darkened. "Really convinced, enough that they went to the Hale house and set it alight with everyone in it."

He gasped. The fire had been Kate's fault? Then how the hell had she ended up dating Derek then? Oh Jesus was that fucked- no wonder Derek was so messed up.

Did he know the fire was Kate's fault? Fuck.

"But before she did that she seduced Derek to gain his trust only he was a minor and she was much older than him for it to be remotely legal. I don't really know what happened between them," she admitted. Oh great, more uncertainty.

"Maybe she genuinely liked him before she found out he was a werewolf like with me and Scott but then she lost it, couldn't deal. Or maybe it was her plan to get at him from the beginning. I don't know. Nobody knows except-"

"Derek," Stiles said. "And he's never spoken about it to me before. He lost his shit when I so much as went to the wreckage of the Hale house."

Allison flushed. "That might have been because you went with me," she said. "But maybe not. When he came back my dad thought he was out to get us but he's really changed. I don't think he blames us for Kate anymore just like we don't blame him for Peter."

Stiles didn't think it was a good idea to ask but he couldn't resist. "Why what did Peter do?"

"He killed all of the humans involved in the fire. You know, the bus driver, the..."

"Yeah I know," he said shivering in the warm room. "Jesus."

"Don't be surprised if he has a few problems," she said changing the subject back to Derek again. "He's been through a lot. We've put him through a lot," she amended quietly.

"How do you feel about the whole thing?" he asked.

She frowned cupping the warmth of her mug as if she was tempted to hug it herself. "I don't know Kate was always just Kate to me. She was like my sister and to find out she did that was just so confusing. I mean she was never like that with me and to hear she'd done that to people was just…"

She broke off and smiled grimly and then Stiles felt horrible and it was not because of the pink frilling from the table cloth tickling his leg.

Though he did think he could have done without it.

* * *

When he was finally dropped home by Allison he was still feeling pretty mind blown by the entire evening. They had stayed out pretty late grabbing some dinner together after she'd finished her coffee because they'd sat there talking for so long.

Stiles liked to think he was protecting her from the many male eyes that followed her as they wandered into the restaurant for Scott's benefit but it was mostly because he liked her and wanted to keep her away from assholes.

She'd gotten him friend-whipped almost as bad as Scott. By the time she driven him back they'd already swapped emails and he'd promised to link her to his online gaming community that battled mythical creatures because it was very, very entertaining. And she'd already promised to give him some music to listen to. It was some seriously cool bonding time and he totally appreciated the crap that Allison had had to go through her entire life even more so than before.

Her family was known as those responsible for the Hale house massacre and whichever town they'd moved to had, had enough news coverage to recognise and condemn them. But even that wasn't what was the worst part about it. Allison angrily told him about the level of support for their supposed actions they'd received in secret and how sickened they'd all been by it- her dad had stopped hunting for several months afterwards- and it had made it much easier to move again.

The Hale house was like a stain on their family history and no matter where they moved to- it was going to follow them like a bad smell. And that really sucked for them and Stiles hated that they had to suffer for Kate's psycho mistake, even when Derek apparently had no problem with them.

Especially if they were working together at the moment. But even worse was to see it still affecting them now. Allison explained that there was an actual reason why they'd separated her and Scott and didn't want them dating. It wasn't to protect Allison from violent werewolves- they didn't want Scott to date Allison to protect _Scott_ because they couldn't live through another Kate. And if the media had caught wind of their relationship they'd be all over the news, having to move again.

And settling back into Beacon Hills ironically had seemed the only place that they could get away from the Hale house and every silent judgement and accusation that came with it. Allison didn't think her parents could handle being run out of another town because of their last name again.

And all because of one deeply disturbed woman. Kate had infiltrated every inch of Stiles' life and he'd never even met her before. And that had to be the shittiest thing to ever exist, ever because he and everybody he cared about were totally being screwed over by a memory and there was nothing he could do about it.

He thanked Allison for the ride and said he'd see her tomorrow before walking into the house. The lights were out inside but Stiles used the light from his phone to find the staircase. He tried to sneak quietly upstairs but Derek clearly would have heard him. But he was more or less surprised when he made his way into the room and the alpha was fast asleep in their bed.

He removed his shoes pulling tiredly at the waistband of his pants and letting them fall to the floor before yanking his shirt over his head. It was only when he was placing his phone on the bedside table, the brief light sliding over the alpha that Stiles noticed he was doing it again, tearing at his own mouth with his transformed teeth.

He sighed and climbed into the bed getting prepared to lose an arm because he was going to try to wake Derek up again. But then the alpha made an unrecognisable sound and grabbed onto him, pulling Stiles against his chest.

And the cannibal chewing stopped.

Again.

Because Stiles was in his arms.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Should he get out the wedding rings now or later?

"Oh God, I'm in love with Derek Hale," he said quietly to the darkness as if expecting the universe to slap some sense into him.

It didn't.

Big surprise there.


	13. Nē

I APOLOGISE RIGHT NOW BECAUSE THIS INVOLVES MY GREAT FRIEND CLIFFY WHICH I'M GOING TO HANG YOU ALL OFF. SORRY NOT SORRY :D

ENJOY!

* * *

**Nē.**

_He was dreaming. Stiles knew he was dreaming because he was standing in the Hale house and it did not look fried to a crisp or remotely like a serious death trap waiting to happen- where the rafters may or may not be seconds away from collapsing on his head._

_It actually looked pretty freaking nice like maybe it would have been pretty awesome to live there. Nice enough that he wasn't as- sweet mother of all things holy- surprised when a mix of people abruptly joined him in the living room with the ease of group in their own natural surroundings._

_He saw the dark hair, the flicker of familiar hazel eyes and oddly recognizable faces. They were all looking at him warmly, smiling at him in that way a person does when they know something is right, that something worked and maybe right now that something was him._

_They beckoned Stiles closer but he was too surprised to move, watching what could only be Derek's family as they nestled closely on the couch, a small comfortable gathering that was as endearing as it was vaguely familiar like he was seeing a bigger version of his own family bundled together or a memory of something else resurfacing in his subconscious._

_His eyes searched automatically for Derek, eyebrows knitting together into a frown when the manwolf didn't immediately appear to gnaw on his neck or demand what he was doing in the- not really burnt down- house with his- not really burnt to death- family. Stiles opened his mouth to speak but then shut it instead in favour of the peculiar calm sensation washing over him and the really unimaginably welcoming vibe he was getting from the family._

_The Hale family who until recently he'd assumed were maybe a little bit red neck, incestuous version of a modern werewolf family because he didn't really have much of an imagination. He'd been very wrong and he felt extremely settled amongst them, that boundless energy permanently twisting through him a distant thought in the back of his mind before he moved towards them. He was pretty sure that he was dreaming because hallucinating seemed a bit freaking ridiculous and there was that lucid feeling to his movements and thoughts as if he were distantly aware that he was in complete control of the situation. And that maybe if he wanted to imagine eating some curly fries they would magically appear in his hands._

_Their eyes if possible, seemed to grow warmer some of the group flickering with the sharpest blue as he approached, a very werewolfesque greeting. Their welcoming smiles, tugged at something within him and he choked back a lump of feelings as it swelled within his chest. Because they didn't know him and here they were smiling at him so warmly that he felt he'd known them forever. But he didn't know these people, he shouldn't really even if some were vaguely familiar, but he felt like he did. Stiles felt like he'd known these people his entire life as if he was a part of them and that he belonged._

_He'd barely made it towards the group until they were all rising to their feet gravitating towards him. He wasn't afraid, his mind was too relaxed to feel any real fear as they surrounded him like a whisper of stirring air._

_And then there were hands pressing against him, supporting, gentle and quietly offering something that he couldn't quite understand. They were all smiling gently, soothingly as they pressed closer to touch him, to embrace him in some way as if they were congratulating him for something like he might be someone heroic. Maybe they were thanking for putting up with Derek's cactus ass or something._

_Stiles didn't know why this stirred up so many feelings in him but he ducked his head sheepishly, feeling undeserving of the display but remarkably calm about the fact that he was at the centre of a serious werewolf/human group hug and for once they were not an angry mob or trying to scratch his face off. Which was pretty freaking great. He liked these people a lot, liked their unusual kindness and the way they seemed to be giving him more than he could ever have imagined. He even liked the little werewolf kid that was running circles around him because everything just seemed right here._

_Something twisted in him, a need, a longing for someone in particular to make this all the more perfect and he wet his lips glancing about the room again hopefully but seeing no sign of the alpha at all._

_"Derek," he managed finally and they smiled sadly drifting away from him without a response but their eyes seemed to say it all. He called after them in surprise but they didn't return, drifting into various corners of the room. He sensed something in them that was sobering, solemn as they gave him unexpected distance._

_And then a woman emerged from the hallway._

_He recognised her instantly, from the photo he'd spent too much time obsessing over. And as he saw how much she resembled her brother he wondered how in the hell he had ever confused her for someone else._

_Laura. _

_Her expression was softer than he'd expected a Hale's to be and she approached him quietly, eyes burning into his with an intensity that surprised him. Stiles felt that she was trying to tell him something but Laura was silent as she stopped before him, considering._

_Her eyes raked over him critically and Stiles resisted the urge to strike a ridiculous pose and instead cocked an eyebrow knowing instantly that it was the exact same expression Derek used on him so very often because he was fairly certain that he was being checked out._

_For a second Laura seemed startled like maybe she'd seen the expression before too and then her face softened and her gaze became gentle. She smiled and reached out slowly, pressing her hand softly against his cheek. _

_She said nothing at all and Stiles figured that just had to be the recurring theme here so he kept his mouth shut and tried not to move too much. Laura seemed to gather that he was struggling to keep still and shook her head briefly in small amusement before her gaze abruptly hardened and she looked towards the door._

_Her hand was still cupping his face and Stiles was seriously wondering how dead he was because he was feeling a little too at peace here but he followed the direction of her gaze, immediately seeing the beginning of flames licking at the bottom of the door. He swore, jerking back to look at Laura in shock. Her expression was hard, unforgiving but she still continued to hold the side of his face in her hand, eyes intense, probing and almost beseeching._

_And then he noticed the sudden inferno raging behind her, surrounding them and wrapping around the rest of the Hale family like a ruinous caress, burning them all alive._

* * *

Stiles awoke with a yell, twisting up in the bed sheets and the embrace of a seriously pissed off alpha who he may or may not have accidentally struck during his interpretive dream flailing.

"Stiles," Derek groaned and he ignored the feelings that jerked through him at the gravelly sound of the alpha's sleepy voice which still somehow encouraged the sudden urge to remove his boxers, no questions asked and get straight down to the sexing. "Do you ever stop moving?"

Was that some sort of invitation? It definitely sounded like an invitation. Was Derek asking him for round one billion of their sexapalooza? Stiles could definitely make that sacrifice at dead o'clock in the morning. He shifted away slightly, the last etches of the dream pulling at his consciousness and he was a little impressed when the alpha moved with him in a display of some serious manwolf cuddling. Stiles huffed out a sigh but his heart was pumping a little too quickly to be normal and he was being spooned by a prickly werewolf with ninja senses.

"Your heart's racing," Derek offered almost immediately as if to prove how impossible it was to hide anything from him, freaky dreams about his family and the Hale house and questionably accelerated fires, included.

Stiles was too tired and disturbed and too full of feelings regarding said werewolf cuddling that he didn't exactly trust himself not to blurt out his undying love for the alpha. He focused on his breathing for a moment before he got a hold of himself.

"I may have been picturing you naked," he said and Derek snorted disbelievingly, burying his face into the crook of Stiles' neck.

"No you weren't," he muttered reaching across his hip to press a hand to his crotch. Stiles made an indignant sound. "Otherwise this would be a lot more interested."

Stiles flushed as he felt himself already hardening under the heat of Derek's hand. The alpha chuckled low in his throat at the reaction as Stiles growled. "Well now it is, jackass," he grumbled back moving to swat at his shoulder.

Derek's apology was to continue to palm him through the fabric of his boxers. He groaned out a pleased sound at the sensation, grinding his ass against Derek invitingly because at dead o'clock sexytime was definitely on the agenda plus he loved the alpha and feelings meant sex. The alpha let out a keening sound in the back of his throat, jerking Stile's hips tighter against him and he was very open about how much he enjoyed it. There was a perfect laziness to their movements as Stiles moved slowly against his hand and Derek ground leisurely against his ass and he didn't know anything could be as damn good as this.

He jerked in surprised when the alpha's hands dipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, taking him in hand as his mouth latched onto his neck, licking and biting the entire- Derek cannibal- experience. He gasped softly squirming under the ministrations of Derek's wonder hands because it felt too good and he was seriously considering dying of pleasure and such. It didn't take him very long. The alpha easily worked him to orgasm bringing them both over the edge almost simultaneously and Stiles threw his head back exposing his neck in offering as he came all over Derek's fingers.

He gasped out his satisfaction as Derek mouthed wetly at the marks he'd made on his neck before removing his hand from around Stiles' cock. They fell into a comfortable silence, breathing exerted as they remained tangled together. Stiles didn't even attempt to deny the awesome that was a Derek sexing experience and was about to close his eyes before he heard the alpha licking his come off of his fingers.

And that had to be the hottest thing he'd ever witnessed in his entire life. Anything remotely to do with Lydia Martin included.

"Oh my God you're so hot," he groaned as the alpha let out a surprised chuckle before pulling Stiles more firmly against his chest. Derek murmured something unintelligible into his heated skin and Stiles sighed squirming a little in his grip because he was still sensitive and having a burning furnace of alpha pressed up against every inch of him was a little overwhelming.

They settled back down together, Stiles' feeling the sweat on his skin slowly cool as the fresh air drifting through the open window brushed against him eliciting Goosebumps. And for once he was really lost for words on how to explain just how freaking perfect this was. He was totally being spooned by a sex God who he was werewolf married to and they had mind blowing sex whenever they felt like it, _wherever _they damn felt like it- because there was an exhibitionist in him waiting to break free- and everything was just so right.

Besides the rogue and the hunters and creepy Gerard and Jackson who was too privy to the intricacies of his sex life to be healthy. Plus Stiles had been neglecting Scott who in turn had been neglecting Allison because as Stiles' now knew it was for his own good.

It was clearly a vicious cycle. But now settled deep into the alpha's embrace it felt like none of that stupid face palming- running for life experiences could touch them. He knew it was probably the afterglow talking and he didn't even want to see how ridiculous his happier than hell expression looked in a mirror.

But still he just felt awesome but like in that cheesy way where his chest felt too tight and something felt like it was going to explode out of him- though the jittery exploding thing wasn't totally uncommon for him. He still wanted to write sappy love songs but he didn't think he was going to blurt anything out that might make Derek spontaneously combust so he figured it would all be okay. Clearly until the alpha manned up and accepted the totally manly feelings he possessed for him, Stiles was just going to have to wait it out. But in that moment it didn't seem like something so far off.

In fact he was pretty sure that he was charming the pants off of him. Who wouldn't like a piece of dat ass? Stiles was a great catch if anybody bothered to pay any attention to his cleverly disguised- because of reasons- unknown potential. The soft breath escaping the alpha's mouth trailed across his neck as Derek's breathing evened out and he fell back to sleep.

Stiles was pretty surprised. The alpha had this weird thing about Stiles being asleep first before he even closed his eyes, like maybe if he closed them for a second and then opened them Stiles would be hovering over him with a knife or chainsaw or something. He didn't really understand his reasoning. Where would Stiles even manage to get a chainsaw without anybody asking questions? Plus he was a sappy love mess that didn't really want to cut his boyfriend up into little pieces so the alpha was just being paranoid.

But this was definitely new. And weird. But he was always weird and most of the time Stiles knew it wasn't because he was a werewolf. Even as a normal guy he'd still be his prickly, reclusive self probably shaking his fist into the sky for no apparent reason and mowing his lawn in the dark of night.

Just a regular unusual dude.

Stiles pictured that for a moment and found that he almost could entertain the idea without laughing. Almost. But then Derek's ability to be the ultimate snuggy and reduce him into melted goop from bodily contact kicked in and Stiles forgot about the fact that he was covered in his own semen, the sheen of sex sweat covering them both and drifted back to sleep.

* * *

The bed was empty when he woke up. But that wasn't entirely a reason for Defcon one status so he shrugged his shoulders, stretching his arms and yawning before he trudged into the bathroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

He washed their sexytime off of his skin in the warm water knowing that the alpha's scent would probably still cover every inch of him for the next millennium. He knew he'd been dipped in an alpha scent pudding and he was seriously okay with that. There was nothing better than being sexed up by Derek, he'd take Jackson's teasing any day. It was worth it. He dressed quickly afterwards and then skipped- yes skipped because he was that far gone and his brain was full of rainbows and sunshine and small fluffy animals with no relation to the Beacon Hills woodland creatures- because everything was just freaking awesome.

And then he almost tripped down the stairs and made the consecutive decision that maybe skipping wasn't for him though he did attempt to slide down the banister instead- also a bad idea.

When Stiles entered the kitchen rubbing his now throbbing- like a bitch- ass because- Jesus why did Derek have tiled floors again?- damn it hurt and he spotted the alpha and to his immense surprise Henry/ Jeeves standing next to one another, both on cell phones. It was like invasion of the ninja butler.

The alpha's expression was tight and Stiles recognised his- I'm talking to a person I don't like but I can't threaten to rip their throat out because I'm the alpha so I have to play nice- expression. Henry's expression was much harder to read because he was clearly some kind of butler badass who did not possess emotion but his voice was unbelievably polite as he spoke.

Stiles took a seat at the counter and drummed his fingers against the table while he waited. The alpha seized them, almost absently interlocking them safely into his own grip as if he needed protection from the countertop- the countertop they'd screwed against in case he needed reminding. He didn't. That imagery would forever remain in his wank bank for the good of humanity and his libido which evidently went hand in hand. Literally.

"He declines," Derek spat out tightly only just missing the edge of his warning growl which meant he definitely wanted to howl into the cell phone. Stiles rolled his eyes but figured somehow this had to do with him. Otherwise his werewolf panties wouldn't be in such a bunch. Henry also politely told the person on the other end of the line no and then hung up before they could continue speaking. It was a badass cut off if Stiles would admit it, but he would never do that because Henry was still his understudy nemesis and with Derek making him all googly eyed these days that role needed to be filled pronto.

The alpha slammed the cell phone onto the counter and smashed it into pieces so Stiles figured it was safe to talk.

"Uh any particular reason why you're breaking technology so early in the morning? We've got a couple of centuries before they take over humanity so I think you're safe."

Derek snorted and Henry's lips pursed together in a barely hidden smile. Stiles resisted the urge to fist pump because he was clearly hilarious and should have his own comedy act and forward his plan of world domination by reducing people into messes of hysteria.

Side splitting laughter was a dangerous thing.

"They've been calling all morning," the alpha muttered looking tense. "To request an interview with you."

Stiles blinked in surprise. Did he actually have paparazzi nowadays? Was this the price of alpha sexy time? Jesus. Should he start wearing mini skirts without any underwear and start climbing into limos or what? Because he didn't think he wanted that kind of exposure. "Why me?" he demanded. "Why don't they want to talk to you?"

Derek smirked at his attempt to offload his new media fanbase onto him, releasing Stiles' hands with a smack on the table as he pushed a plate in his direction. "Because I didn't offer myself to an alpha in front of an entire town and I'm not the youngest alpha mate ever documented in history."

Stiles stuck his tongue out maturely. But he still needed to present how much of a bad idea him talking to press could be just in case Derek hadn't already reached the same conclusion. "Trust me you do not want me talking to the press about anything on this plane of existence" he warned.

The alpha rolled his eyes and picked up his own plate. "Which is why I said no."

"Good call," Stiles pointed out with his fork and then got back to breakfast before Henry bowed and left the room. He watched him go suspiciously.

"I can't believe you have a butler," he muttered underneath his breath and the alpha's head snapped up from his plate in surprise.

"He's not my butler," Derek said tone pretty much pointing out that Stiles was the stupidest person on the planet. "He works for the Alpha Council."

Stiles nearly punched himself. He'd genuinely assumed that Henry had been Derek's butler and he'd never bothered to ask and the alpha hadn't bothered- he'd been too concerned with the devirginalisation process plus all his cactus werewolf suspicion that prevented him from giving Stiles details about anything even the colours of his underwear- to correct him. Well he was officially diagnosed with brain cell loss. It was all the werewolf sex clearly. Of course Derek had the Alpha Council contacting him- which had been the reason for Henry's appearance after Stiles' deflowering and official claiming after heat week- but why had Henry driven Derek into Beacon Hills?

And holy shit Stiles had insulted a member of the Alpha Council. And he'd nearly called him Derek's butler to his face. Oh shit he'd called him Jeeves and everything and acted like the biggest douchebag on the planet because Henry was his self appointed nemesis. Fuck. The Alpha Council were as high up as anybody could go- they monitored all of the alpha's throughout the different countries and territories and kept peace between them all whilst also assisting human forces in encouraging safety and harmony between the two groups.

One big happy human werewolf family. Stiles had even heard people gossiping that they had some human members. But the Alpha Council were the ones that kept all the alpha's in line- well as much as they could. They literally had written the book on alpha law.

And Stiles had already made an enemy of one of them. Sort of. A very vague sort of enemy.

Oh fuck. Jesus like challenging an alpha hadn't been enough he had to go an insult a Council member as well. Dear Lord he was never going to open his mouth ever again for the common good of the world. "Damn" he muttered almost immediately breaking his silent vow of preventative foot in mouth disease. He really had a problem with silence. In fact, he was pretty sure it could kill him.

Silence was his wolfsbane.

"And I'd thought you wouldn't be much trouble," Derek said shaking his head.

"This façade is intentionally deceiving," Stiles agreed wagging his fingers mysteriously as if he could shoot lightning bolts out of them or something. The alpha only rolled his eyes again and continued eating without further comment because he obviously understood when he'd been outsmarted by Stiles' evil genius.

Or he was just hungry.

Whatever.

Derek had already offered to drive him to school and once they were finished eating he proceeded to feel him up spectacularly as they made their way towards the front door. Stiles was laughing because unfortunately the alpha seemed to have discovered his weaker more ticklish spots and was taking advantage of his discovery which showed his evil tendencies and the definite abuse of his human husband.

His face was red and flushed when Stiles pulled open the door and spotted Scott on the front step. But his laughter choked off immediately at the horrified expression on his face- because Derek's wandering hands may have been underneath his shirt, his chest pressed closely up against his back with his other hand curled possessively against his hip and sure they weren't naked or anything but Scott did possess this lil' old thing called an imagination.

And judging by his expression whatever he was imagining seemed to make him want to scream in terror. Scott cleared his throat and Stiles reached behind him to awkwardly scratch at the back of his skull nearly elbowing the alpha in the face as he did so because they were clearly having the mansex and Scott was still not quite used to the idea and couldn't really wrap his head around anything that wasn't Allison related. Great.

"Scott," he managed keeping his voice steady and mockingly polite. "School's thattaway man," he said pointing helpfully because he was the bestest friend Scott could ever ask for and could also offer directions to lost puppies at the same time.

His best friend rolled his eyes. "I'm not going today," Scott said to his immense surprise. "I'm in the rogue search party with Derek."

Stiles frowned extracting himself from the alpha's hold. "Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded hearing the accusation in his voice and feeling pretty damn pissed and maybe just a little jealous that Scott didn't seem too terrified around the alpha anymore and they were clearly all buddy buddy. And he'd said Derek's name without looking like he was about to freak out and die so that was a weird change.

Derek shrugged but his fingers came around the back of his neck as if he knew hot, alpha touches were his weakness.

Which they were. The alpha gently steered him outside shutting the door behind him. "You would have told him not to do it" he explained and Stiles anger was momentarily squashed by the fact that the alpha seemed to know exactly what he would've done in the situation and he'd been right about it. Damn psychic mind reading skills.

"Damned straight," he muttered pushing at Scott's available shoulder. "You're an idiot dude, what's Allison going to say?"

Scott pushed back and then ripped his hand away like it was on fire when Derek growled low and dangerous in the back of his throat. Stiles laughed at his wet pants expression feeling maybe a little pleased that the alpha was such a werewolf badass and would protect him from irritating best friends. And Scott still possessed the bravery of a snail or something.

"Uh she's fine with it," he said ducking away from Derek's reach as if expecting the guy to swipe at him. Stiles could foresee this very thing occurring and pressed his hand into the alpha's chest in warning. "I've been talking with her dad a lot actually."

Stiles wondered if he knew the real reason why he and Allison couldn't date yet. He hoped Mr Argent would figure out that beneath all of the blank, puppy dog eyes and bewildered expression was a guy seriously whipped on his daughter to the point that he'd tear his own claws off rather than see her hurt. There was too much cockblocking on Scott's end these days and Stiles- who was suddenly the mackdaddy of sexual encounters and maintaining a constantly laid beyond mental recognition status- could confidently feel a little bit smug that the werewolf sex was on the other foot, so to speak.

"Good luck with that dude," he said. "You two run along and kill that big, bad rapist werewolf. I'll take my demon jeep to school" he said turning back to Derek again. "So you don't need to drive me."

The alpha nodded but still followed him towards his parked car. He kissed him goodbye right in front of Scott because Derek clearly didn't care about traumatising his best friend and it may have been a little heated- heated enough to include some tongue action- much to Scott's protest.

Derek eventually pulled away after sucking another bruise into his neck like a silent promise and Stiles climbed into his jeep subtly rearranging himself because damn could that alpha kiss- but both of the werewolves seemed to already smell that little nugget of private information. Scott groaned and Stiles smirked wagging his fingers in his direction before starting his jeep and reversing out of the driveway, forced to leave his boyfriend and best friend so that they could go off gallivanting in the woods and kick serious ass and other impressive manly things while he was forced to go and continue his stupid education.

Figures.

But he knew where he much preferred to be. Because he was carrying the I-heart-Derek torch of love and such.

* * *

He barely dodged Jackson on his way to homeroom, the smirk already all over his chiseled face but Stiles only dived into the crowd of people letting them sweep him away and he made it there safe and sound and completely unmocked. He took a seat next to Allison and they fell into easy conversation because she knew his terrible lovey secret and apparently that was a real bonding experience. Something was bugging him though and it had been since he'd been gifted with a resurfacing of Derek's werewolf knot glory yesterday and he was going to ask her about it.

Because he wanted to know more about knotting and other stuff because he was lewd and perverted and also suspected that there might have been some hidden meaning to it. And normally he wouldn't have even considered Allison but Scott wasn't there to keep him afraid of corrupting her and she was pretty easy to talk to about this sort of stuff considering she'd obviously done said werewolf knotting.

Ugh with Scott. He needed to burn his eyes out before an image formed in his mind.

And thinking about Derek and his many, many hidden secrets was the best cure to worrying about the alpha bastard or that he was out in the woods in freaking danger as well as Scott was. So he asked her in the comfortable pause of their conversation if she could meet him during his free period in a well known empty classroom to discuss something private. She looked a little suspicious but she agreed without any further probing questions and Stiles could fully appreciate what a wonderful and miraculous creature she was.

* * *

Until only a couple hours later after lunch was over- and he was well into his free period when she actually showed up at the abandoned classroom with Lydia and Danny and hell, even freaking Jackson in tow- he was starting to question his opinion.

"I'm sorry," she said as she met him at the door with Lydia standing beside her, arms folded and looking like she was about to set something on fire with the power of her mind and Stiles knew he was in big, strawberry blonde, trouble. "She insisted on coming."

"Yes, thank you so much for the invitation," she snapped in her wonderfully sarcastic tone as Allison strode inside before grabbing the closest seat, Jackson immediately appearing in the space behind Lydia. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "And he overheard the conversation and insisted on coming as well."

And then Lydia strode into the classroom with a flick of her luscious curls. Stiles frowned at Jackson suspiciously as the werewolf smirked at him. "Don't think just cause you drove away that I've forgotten about yesterday. In fact I've got plenty of things to say about it, Stilinski."

Stiles resisted the urge to laugh. "What you came all the way here in your free period just to talk about my sex life?" he replied rolling his eyes because how in the hell did Jackson not realise that he was such a douchebag? "Not creepy at all, man."

Jackson looked like he was about to comment or rip his face off but Danny appeared behind his shoulder and he visibly relaxed whilst Stiles couldn't resist grinning. Because it was Danny and he was out of bed and looked alive and such. Nobody could stay pissed off around Danny.

"Dude you're walking," he said, grinning widely.

Danny was smiling and his arm was curled around Jackson's waist- who of course was already smirking- which Stiles hadn't noticed before. He didn't really look like he'd been bedridden for a couple of days but being thoroughly sexed generally didn't have obvious symptoms that showed up on people's radars.

Human radars at least.

"Figured I'd see what this meeting was about," he said. "And keep Jackson from breaking things."

Stiles grinned as Jackson pulled Danny into the classroom by his hand, almost dragging him away from him because he was a ridiculously jealous douchebag and Stiles probably still smelt like Derek which could only mean that he wanted to steal Danny away from him. Obviously.

Love made Jackson crazy, clearly.

They'd already made their way towards the cluster of seats, perching comfortably on the desks and looking up at Stiles expectantly when he shut the door with a shrug and moved to join them.

"I can't believe you all showed up," he said flopping easily down onto the teacher's desk and wondering if he really wanted to traumatise this many people at once. There had to be a law against it or something. Oh well.

"What's this all about?" Jackson demanded from his position on the desk, Danny was pressed in the space between his legs, practically in his lap because Jackson was also whipped and they'd both been seriously bitten by the lovebug. He looked bored and strangely happy at the same time. It was weird and creepy and very non-douchebaggy and Stiles did not like it.

Except for the fact that he did because it was awesome. Allison cleared her throat awkwardly, face reddening because she obviously had higher senses and intuitively had assumed Stiles had wanted to talk about sex. Which was one hundred percent correct. "Um Stiles- wanted to borrow…"

"I asked _Allison _here," he said emphasising her name pointedly to explain how very not invited they'd all been. "To discuss werewolf sex."

Jackson started laughing and Lydia scoffed whilst Danny just pulled a face. "Stiles shouldn't you know this already?" Lydia asked with a roll of her eyes at his complete and utter ridiculousness. Stiles did not feel remotely offended by that. Nope.

He sighed figuring there was no point trying to dance around it. "The entire school seems to think so. But you're here, to specifically discuss werewolf knotting."

That shut Jackson up pretty damn quickly. In fact everyone went silent and looked at him varying degrees of uncomfortable and mortified expressions on their faces as if they couldn't believe that he'd actually just gone there. Which he had and he'd go there again and again because he had no shame.

"You see actually being _invited _to this little classroom campfire could have saved you all from this second hand embarrassment," he said not remotely affected by what was coming out of his mouth or feeling sorry for the embarrassment they were no doubt experiencing at the topic. Hey, clearly this was a lesson to them to not crash werewolf sex classroom campfires. They had only themselves to blame for any psychological trauma.

Surprisingly it was Jackson who spoke first. "You're with an alpha, why are you asking us?" he asked actually curious to hear his answer.

Stiles tried to pretend he wasn't flattered by the douchebaggy attention. "Derek has problems using his words," he said gravely ignoring Danny shaking his head at him in disbelief but he was all seriousness, not a touch of snarkiness or sarcasm, he swore. Sort of. It was fifty-fifty.

"And you have problems not using your words. You're perfect for each other," Lydia commented snappishly still clearly affected by Stiles' lack of invitation to this discussion. Yeah, well Lydia was still pretty freaking scary and Allison was the least likely person of them all to laugh at him.

Or blow him up with the power of her mind. Lydia was just going to have to deal.

"Knotting isn't something you have control over," Jackson explained suddenly. "It's not something you can just do with anyone. You don't get to choose who it happens with, it just does."

Stiles frowned because suddenly Jackson douchebag Whittemore was his Yoda and this was starting to feel like an out of body experience. "Well who can you do it with?"

Was he being too subtle here? Or not enough? Their blank expressions were not remotely comforting. And literally half of them were or had dated werewolves at some point in their lives. They should all be freaking experts by now and he'd be damned if some of them didn't know how to write the book on this thing. It's not like Stiles could just use a school computer to search this crap up.

God, the dragon librarian already wanted to light him on fire and lick the meat from his bones and there was such a thing as a search history and he did not want that to come back and bite him in the ass. And Derek's amount of technology seemed to evolve into a cell phone and that was about the extent of his efforts to assimilate into the natural world though Stiles at least did appreciate the effort.

It was either embarrass himself in front of the people he more or less considered friends or embarrass himself in front of a collection of random and no doubt judgmental strangers who might feel the need to have him psychologically screened. And Lydia would do that for free.

"Is this because you want Derek to do this to you?" Danny asked gently and Jesus was he like the man equivalent of Mother Teresa or what? And that meant Mother Teresa was dating Yoda and that seemed too much like an interspecies relationship for his liking.

"The alpha's already done it" Lydia said in an omnipotent way because clearly she was all knowing and held the universe in the palm of her manicured hand. Stiles tried not to react but they all turned to look at him and their expressions seemed to say _Stiles what are you doing, is this how you lie? We can see the truth all over your face._

"Oh wow," Allison gushed out surprised. "I didn't think he'd actually done it. That's really sweet."

Wait, wait putting on the brakes here and sliding into reverse. Why the hell was innocent and untainted by the dirtiest of minds, Allison Argent suggesting knotting was sweet? The world had to be ending or something. Was it opposite day or Allison is really a sexual deviant day?

An agonised howling interrupted her before she could continue and Stiles jumped to his feet whilst Jackson stiffened, Danny twisting in his embrace to touch his arm in concern, immediately sensing the change in his boyfriend.

"That's…" Jackson began.

"The rogue," Stiles finished. "Do you know if it's dying?"

Jackson only looked confused. "It's not dying. It's calling for someone."

Stiles blinked but before he could speak the loudspeaker crackled to life broadcasting an announcement, interrupting him.

"Mr Stilinksi report to the Principal's office immediately."

Well fuck. They all swivelled around to stare at him and Stiles wondered if they were surprised because he gave off such an innocent, completely trustworthy and not remotely suspicious or reckless vibe. And hence being summoned to the Principal's office- no doubt for the humiliation of being placed into a naughty chair or some other metaphorical torture device- had them all slightly concerned.

They could clearly see the injustice in false assumptions because he had such a stellar disciplinary record. Stiles managed to not make an utterly ridiculous face- though he still made a face just a less –I will punch myself upon the sight of your expression- face. And he did not relish a second with creepy Gerard for a moment because he was creepy and not to be trusted and had already bad touched his jeep- an act for which Stiles had yet to forgive.

"Excuse me I have an appointment with a satanic geriatric," he said moving toward the door with a scowl because there was a score to settle here and old man creeper was going down.

"I'll come too," Allison volunteered rising to her feet. "I wanted to talk to Gerard anyway."

"What the hell for?" he demanded as they strode out of the classroom leaving Lydia, Jackson and Danny alone together.

"Lovely chat Stiles," Lydia called after him and he knew that he was going to die or be seriously injured the next time they crossed paths although Jackson and Danny didn't seem too annoyed about being ditched. Probably because the rogue had creeped them all out and they were obviously afraid of old men.

"Well him being a satanic geriatric for one," she supplied helpfully after waving goodbye to their friends as she led the way towards psycho, Gerard's office. "And why he's completely abandoned the rest of the hunters."

Stiles' attention drifted back to the earlier conversation. "What the hell do you consider cute about werewolf knotting?" he demanded wondering if all of his sexy time talk had actually been successful in converting her into a perverted soul like himself. He felt proud and disturbed all at once. "Because I was under the impression that it was a very sexual and non-cute thing to do."

Allison made no confessions of her existing perverted soul. If that actually were the case- and he doubted it because she was literally the snowiest of whites to every exist and have little animals frolicking around her for the fun of it before, of course, she pulled out the crossbow- Scott was going to kill him. Though in his defence Derek had turned him into this perverted soul- okay fine, encouraged it from its sexually deprived hiding place in his subconscious- but the alpha was still completely to blame.

And that is exactly what he'd say if Scott ever came round to tear him limb from limb because he had self preservation instincts and nothing against hanging his one true love- so help him God amen- out to dry without a second thought.

She half laughed and half appeared mortified by his directness. "It's not the act itself that I find romantic, Stiles" she said with a roll of her eyes as they finally reached the Principal's office. She knocked once and then walked into the room with the familiarity of someone who'd been in this office many times before continuing her words.

"It's the meaning behind it," she said.

He glanced at Gerard's desk, puzzling briefly over the empty chair before turning back to face Allison and this very interesting direction the conversation was taking. He could feel a bombshell on the way here. It certainly had a bombshell essence to it, he could tell.

Something equally shocking was going to come to light here and open up his eyes on the alpha, love situation. "And what exactly is the meaning behind it? Besides the intense need to impregnate me?"

A laugh rose behind him, sarcastic and menacing, but surprisingly young. They both jerked around in surprise. "It means," came a familiar, spiteful sounding voice as Matt stepped into their view holding, something loosely in his grip. Stiles immediately tensed but Matt was looking steadily at Allison who was cocking her head at him sideways in misplaced confusion. "That you're a lot more oblivious than I thought."

And then he jerked forward swinging the said something that Stiles had briefly recognised before slamming it down onto the side of his skull. He crumpled immediately under the blow, hearing Allison's outraged cry of shock as the pain exploded behind his eyes.

And holy fuck did that hurt. Damn. He'd have a lump on his head for weeks. There went the rest of his precious brain cells. Matt didn't even look like he possessed that kind of strength. Maybe it was the camera that lured people into a false sense of security. It certainly made him look like he didn't work out, ever.

He dazedly lifted his head to look up at Matt who was standing over him sneeringly, Allison's crossbow in hand which he'd just attempted to brain him with. "And that you can be useful," he added vaguely eyes alight with something unnamable, almost wild.

Matt smirked briefly as he stared at him with almost unfocused eyes before he lifted the crossbow again and slammed it against Stiles' head knocking him out cold, Allison's distant scream ringing in his ears.

* * *

When Stiles opened his eyes again his hands were restrained behind his back and his face was pressed uncomfortably into the dry leaves of the woods, his head throbbing painfully and having literally no freaking clue how he'd gotten there. The side of his face was still wet but itching with the sensation of dried blood that had slid down into his hair because of his position, covering the right side of his face. He could hear the heavy panting of the rogue, and knew that it was nearby and shut his eyes tightly to focus on stopping everything from spinning.

He struggled experimentally in his bonds feeling the tightness covering his wrists and also realising that his feet were bound as well. Just fucking perfect. And he didn't have his magic ash to trap werewolf bitches and it didn't matter anyway because it wouldn't work on Allison's crossbow anyway or Matt's clearly psycho face. So it was safe to say that he was pretty much boned.

And not in the good way. The bad way. The people will die way.

And he couldn't see Allison. Or Matt. Or even the rogue but that could have had to do with the fact that his eyes were still sealed shut, but whatever.

It was so fucked.

He'd always known there was something wrong with that dude, Matt just had that serious creeper vibe. Stiles took an even breath before slowly opening his eyes again with a groan and taking in his surroundings which were just trees, trees and more freaking trees. So he clearly couldn't figure out where the hell creeper Matt has dragged him to. He was sprawled across the forest floor and he instantly spotted Allison several feet away, tied against a tree, watching him with a panicked look on her face.

She seemed to be ignoring the fact that she was the one imprisoned over her worry for his wellbeing. Which was nice and all but she should have been worrying about herself because they were captured by some creepy dude out God knows where in the woods and Stiles was not liking their chances.

And then he took in the rest of this completely fucked up situation.

Matt was several metres away lounging against a tree stump and watching him with a satisfied but completely- I can't wait until you're dead- evil expression. And that was just freaking great because Stiles clearly wanted to die at the hands of a socially inept, stalker dude with a moderate to creepy obsession with Allison.

Then he realised that Matt hadn't bothered to bind his mouth so he rolled over slightly to face him, prepared to talk the asshole to death if possible. "Let me guess," he croaked out feeling that his throat was drier than a goddamn desert and that the light of the day was already fading into the creepiest horror movie theme he'd ever been most unfortunate to be involved in. "You work for Gerard."

Night was close to falling and he knew that the rogue was near. And that they're about ten minutes away from this turning into the biggest clusterfuck to ever exist in the entire universe. Screwed they were screwed. Time to die, do not pass out and do not pass go. Matt laughed but it sounded seriously freaking disturbing and Stiles may or may not have considered the serious disquieting thought that Matt's mental health was way past cuckoo and completely –impossible to be reasoned with- cray cray.

But not, he noted impossible to be manipulated. He figured Matt had the biggest ego in existence- he carried around a freaking camera like he was Andy Warhol for Godsake- and that was a weakness that he could exploit. Or at least prod enough that Matt self destructed into a psycho rage frenzy. Not to mention the torch he carried for Allison. Right, Stiles could do this and he really was not in the mood for some graphic murdering or whatever.

"It's the other way round, moron," Matt said and laughed his- I'm a mental person hear me roar- laugh again. Stiles could be seriously encouraged to beat him over the head with his lacrosse stick if it were available and in his possession and his hands weren't tied and his life didn't suck complete ass. But no he had to listen to psycho Matt rambling on about how psycho he was. Where was the freaking popcorn when it was needed?

Stiles tried not to roll his eyes but he felt the prick of pain as his keys dug into his upper thigh from within his pants and subtly began trying to reach them without Matt's notice because maybe they could get him out of the damn ropes. And he was not going to lie there like a present, wrapped up all nicely for the rogue to devour. Because that seemed like the opposite of what self preservation was and he wasn't that stupid. "How in the hell does a psychotic geriatric with serious satanic tendencies work for you?" he demanded straining his wrist to reach into the pocket of his pants while he tried to distract Matt with useless and annoying questions- his specialty of course. The ropes around his wrists gave some resistance but not enough to stop him.

He was a goddamn unstoppable force when he felt like it. Matt only scowled, cocking Allison's crossbow- which seriously why had she believed it was a good idea to bring easily seizable weaponry into the school grounds?- as if in a silent warning that he wanted to fill Stiles' body with arrows.

Which was just great because now Matt was definitely on Stiles' list of people he must destroy in the near future.

"Because I control the rogue," Matt said easily as if the situation wasn't tense enough. "And now that I have you I can get him what he wants."

Stiles huffed out a frustrated breath watching as it blew some of the dried leaves away from his mouth. This was so not top ten of his most comfortable positions- number one being no face to mattress sex position and number two being other generic sex position. Let's just say half of his most comfortable positions involved sex and the alpha's werewolf cock. Not that he was obsessed with Derek or anything. "What the hell does he want? And why are you stupid enough to trust him?"

Allison suddenly looked up expression hard, hunter dangerous. "He wants the bite," she snarled furiously looking like she really wanted to get her hands wrapped around Matt's neck and do some serious squeezing. Squeezing until he didn't open his mouth ever again, squeezing. "But bite month has already passed and he needs the alpha. He can't wait another year. He needs Derek."

Stiles felt his chest seize up at the mention of his manwolf cactus lover. He closed his eyes again but only because he couldn't seriously fucking believe that reality was such a bitch and that irony appeared to be shitting all over him again. Thanks for nothing fuckers.

Of course Gerard would want Derek, the only available alpha in a ten mile radius of the whole damn town. He wouldn't even be surprised if Gerard was somehow behind the alpha's return to Beacon Hills because everything seemed too plausible to be a coincidence and he was starting to become seriously pissed off with this entire situation. Because this ninety- probably well into his hundreds who the fuck knew even?- geriatric was causing way too much trouble for his goddamn age and he was not okay with that.

Plus his wrists were already seriously chaffing from his escape attempt. And this pretty much freaking sucked as situations went. Because it was not on his things to do today list and now he had to look at Matt's stupid face again and feel irritated that nobody had picked up on his mentally questionable brain like he had from the freaking beginning. Seriously didn't anyone just instantly feel suspicious when looking at his face?

He finally managed to retrieve the keys, silently praying they wouldn't make too much noise because jangling could seriously be the goddamn end for them both but luckily they didn't and Matt didn't notice. Which was great because he didn't want to be brought back to life again so Scott could kill him for getting Allison hurt or that Derek could kill him for getting himself hurt. He had haunting plans for his afterlife and he did not want to come back for death take two, thank you very much.

"He's dying isn't he," he guessed slowly twisting his hands up to place one of the serrated edges of a key against the rope before he started rubbing against it. The position was awkward with his hands behind his back but somehow it worked. Glory hallelujah. And Gerard dying seemed like the only reason he'd be stupid enough to break the law to try to get a free bite out of controlled conditions. Because bite month would come around eventually but there could be only one reason why Gerard couldn't wait that long.

Plus he was old and stuff so it was probably most likely the reason for him wanting to be gnawed on. Old man generally equaled death. It was the natural order of things.

"He's not the only one," Matt said harshly, eyes furious and telling Stiles he was very right about old man's impending doom as the rogue finally staggered into the clearing, jaw hanging lopsidedly and loosely to one side which was seriously not an attractive look for it. "But he's promised to give me what I want. We made a deal."

Stiles immediately could see that they were dealing with an entirely different werewolf. It stumbled around weak and dishoriented like a drunk or at least tipsy alcoholic and he reckoned one good kick would send it straight to the afterlife. It didn't look too tough at the moment and it was pretty much covered in dried and matted blood plus all those nasty bullets riddled throughout it's body. It did not paint a pretty werewolf rogue picture that was for sure. And Stiles figured out straight away that sure, it put up a valiant effort surviving so long but the aconite poisoning had finally taken fatal effect, thank Christ.

Matt strode towards the rogue like the thing was his own personal little puppy and Stiles figured that's probably entirely accurate though without the Scooby Snacks and solving mysteries in the mystery van thing, before the guy pressed his hand softly but commandingly against the rogue's skull and then started rubbing behind it's ears like it really was some soft and cuddly pet.

The sight was uber-creepy and Stiles didn't think he'd ever be able to look at a dangerous beast the same way ever again. Not without picturing a belly rub. He should offer that to Derek sometime if he by some miraculous- God from the machine intervention- survived this shitfuck.

"What kind of deal?" he asked flicking his wrist to speed up the key-cutting-rope process. Could the rogue alert its creepy master to what he was doing? Would it? "What the hell do you even want?"

Matt rolled his eyes. "I can't believe I actually thought you were some kind of genius," he said walking over to him to poke the side of his face with his boot and Stiles just loved that kind of dignified behaviour especially when it's being pushed into his face. Thank you so freaking much. "I give him the alpha and he gives me Allison. Duh, Stiles."

Allison's eyes widened momentarily but Stiles wasn't remotely surprised. He could practically smell Matt's sick, puppy love, desperation whenever he was in the same room as her and he didn't even have badass werewolf senses. But he'd just figured it was the same devoted level of man crush like the one he'd had on Lydia for almost his entire life before meeting the Derek sexy, and Matt's feelings would have eventually given up on the fact that Allison never ever looked his way.

Only he hadn't. And now he definitely had Allison's attention except it looked more like she wanted to kill him than make out with him. Too bad. Not that Matt seemed to care what she thought of him.

And Stiles couldn't believe how seriously fucked up that was.

And then it got worse. Naturally.

"It's funny how easy it is to gain the loyalty of a rogue," Matt said with a sick smile moving back to pat the sickly animal as it whined softly, definitely in lots of pain but still loving its demon creeper master. "They're less paranoid than regular werewolves, more likely to trust their instincts than follow their emotions. I mean as soon as you lead a woman in their direction come heat week, they'll follow you around for days, weeks afterwards because they can expect certain things from you."

Stiles froze immediately, escape attempts forgotten as the realisation set in. Matt had been sending women into the rogue's path? Holy shit. And he was looking as freaking proud of himself as if he'd just given doggy treats instead of living people. Oh sweet mother of pearl, no.

Jesus fuck. How had he tricked all of these women into following him into the woods? Duh the Chief Ranger had already been there for starters and the reporter- he'd probably just made up some bullshit about how he knew Stiles and could give her a confidential scoop or something about his and Derek's relationship. And the girl in his school. Oh God, Stiles actually remembered her now, she was in photography club and liked to follow Matt around like he was a member of an internationally famous boy band or something.

And the hunters well that was just a part of their job description to be running about in the woods searching for werewolves to kill. But for Matt the entire thing had been all too easy. All too ridiculously- how the fuck had he gotten this far without anybody stopping him?- easy. Dear God. That was one sick fucking fucker they were dealing with. And he didn't even care about what he'd done. Jesus.

This seemed a hell of a lot freaking worse than satanic tendencies.

"They become pretty pliant after that," Matt continued to explain as if that was a totally normal and non-psychopathic and very, very not disturbed thing to say. "Because a bond has been established. And now the rogue will pretty much do anything I say."

Stiles watched as Allison struggled against the ropes behind Matt's back expression calm and dangerous, ready to pounce. God, when she got out of there Stiles almost wanted to run for the hills himself because she looked Derek level of scariness and he was busy being impressed and freaked out by that. "Okay so you've become a rogue trainer, congratulations you freaky bastard that's moderately disturbing," he said. "But why the hell is Allison here? Why can't you let her go?"

Matt grinned before leaving the side of the heavily breathing rogue to approach the girl tied to the tree. Stiles resumed his key-to-ropes effort harder than ever when Allison spat at Mattcreeper, hissing out her rage when Matt reached forward to touch her cheek. She tried to wrench her face away from the ultimate creepy display of teenage creepiness and Stiles resisted the urge to throw up or shout something completely unflattering because they had to wait until they were out of these goddamn ropes with some serious weaponry in their hands before they could do any of that.

"It didn't work out how I'd planned," Matt said sounding giddy as he pulled away from her seemingly oblivious to her open display of disgust. "It was meant to just be you and then once you'd lured the alpha here I was going to force him to bite Gerard or watch you die. But then Allison was there as well and it was just so perfect."

Stiles swore and struggled like a worm against the ground, flopping around comically as he tried to sit up and get that creepiness away from Scott's not so secret girlfriend. "But you don't even need her" he said angrily wondering why if he'd been crushing on her so long Matt thought it was alright to put her in so much danger.

Matt turned around to face him, eyes narrowed at the tone is his voice. "But I want her!" he screamed stamping his foot like a five year old having a tantrum, his face turning ugly and terrifying for a moment before he controlled his emotions and it transformed back into something less insane which was even more disturbing. Could anybody say bipolar disorder? Then he smiled a very nightmare inducing smile and Stiles just knew that he no longer possessed any freaking marbles.

"And I like to watch," he added with a sickening smile. "So she can watch too."

Stiles wished he possessed the skill to projectile vomit all over his fucked up face but he didn't so he swore instead, struggling harder than ever against the ropes, heart thumping desperately in his chest as Matt laughed at his reaction. Fuck. Fuck. He liked to watch? Holy God Matt liked to watch as the rogue raped and killed women? Jesus Christ. There was so many things wrong with that. Fuck. Serious fuck.

"You sick fucker," he spat out violently. "I knew you were a psychotic nut job."

Matt grinned at him like Stiles had just complimented his hair or something not his total lack of sanity or his clearly depraved and twisted soul. And that was how Stiles knew Matt was crazier than a spoon and fork fused together and that unless one of them broke free they were seriously screwed. And they had to do something about that like pronto. Even if it killed him and only Allison escaped, it would be worth it. To get her as far away from Mattcreeper as possible.

"Here's where it gets really interesting," Matt said before turning back to the rogue. He clicked his fingers at it and the werewolf snapped to attention like some sick sort of rogue minion which essentially it was because it wanted Mattcreeper to give him lady snacks.

"I brought you a treat," he crooned and Stiles felt the bile rising in the back of his throat. Oh God Matt was going to do the same thing to Allison that he'd done to all those women and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. Jesus why didn't he possess magical werewolf fighting skills? He felt the panic rise within him and he could feel the key cutting slowly through the rope but it wasn't fast enough, he still needed more time. Story of his freaking life.

"Kill him," Matt said pointing in Stiles' direction to his surprise. "Any way you want," he whispered loudly enough for them all to hear in the silence of the woods and Stiles' immediately understood the implications of his words.

Well that was just freaking great. Did everyone just assume that he had lady parts hidden on his person or did a rumour happen to be going around here? Clearly he was not dealing with only a rapist werewolf but a homosexual rapist werewolf as well. Freaking fantastic.

Or it just wasn't particular about that sort of thing, being an open minded rapist werewolf and all. Stiles was not particularly jumping for joy over that admission.

Or Matt's next words.

"But slowly, so his screams can be heard by the alpha."

Well that was just lovely. Thank you Mattcreepy teenager for making this into a relationship thing because apparently he was under the impression that Derek was totally whipped on him and would appear any second to save Stiles' ass without any sort of encouragement.

But Stiles knew better.

And that the alpha wouldn't just come running for him. Maybe after he'd made a sandwich or reported to the Alpha Council about his werewolf ass or taken a shower or something then maybe after- if he felt like it- would he bother to make an appearance. Derek was not reliable when it came to anyone wanting him to be somewhere, although they were technically in the woods- the alpha werewolf's big, macho, man playground- so his chances of alpha appearance were considerably higher.

But seriously it was going to be really awkward after this little torture/rape session when the alpha didn't show up and Stiles was lying there all broken on the ground for no reason. Matt was going to lose his shit that was for sure which would- in hindsight- make the whole torture/rape thing worth it. Allison was still struggling and he noticed that she was crying tears of frustration as she fought against the ropes to free herself. It looked like she wanted to do some serious rescuing and he was a little touched by the effort.

But he was responsible for his own ass and now he had to save it.

"Uh not to burst your bubble here mentally unhinged person, but Derek and me we're not really uh.. into each other _that _way," he said watching as Mattcreeper frowned at him. "So, not sorry to ruin your evil plans and such, but you might want to hold off on that torture for a bit because he's not coming."

Matt laughed. "Oh he'll be here. You said he knotted you."

Ugh, did everybody need to know the private details of his sex life? Really? Hadn't he been humiliated enough? Stiles cringed at that. "Yeah okay fine, but that doesn't mean he's going to show up."

Crazy, psycho Matt actually face palmed and Stiles was concerned that even psycho nutjobs thought that he was ridiculous. Because that did not bode well for him in the long run. "Oh my God, dude your so stupid," he spat. "Werewolves can only knot one person in their lifetime, you complete spazz. And only if both their human and wolf side are in love with them."

Oh. That was nice.

Stiles just kind of stared at him blankly. Sonofabitch. What? Could crazy, ass teenager run that by him again? Jesus, was that why Allison thought it was cute? He glanced at Allison for confirmation and she nodded hesitantly still struggling against the ropes. Shit. And holy motherfucking Christ Jesus and Holy Ghost was Derek actually in love with him?

In.

Love.

With.

Him.

Holy fuck. No wonder it had seemed different when they'd screwed in the woods the other day. It had been like there was more of Derek present at the sex party than ever before. Sweet mother of all that was holy Stiles' had literally charmed the prickles off the cactus man. He wanted an award or like some serious recognition for that effort alone. Derek was sweet on his ass. He was totally whipped and couldn't get enough of Stiles Stilinski. This was awesome.

And then Stiles was wrenched back into the present by the very- holy shit, fuck- fact that he lay there helplessly as the rogue lumbered slowly towards him.

His heart thundered in his ears, his head pulsing painfully. He was still dizzy and disoriented but his hands were not remotely freed and he felt like a stuffed turkey waiting to be put into an oven. And there was nothing he could do about it. And Derek was in love with him. Thank you universe, you stupid, evil fucker. The freaking irony was going to kill him. Or make him want to kill himself.

He made a strangled noise as the rogue reached him, dropping its snout to scent the air around him with evident interest as its paws pressed deeply into the leaves. He could smell the coppery tang of fresh blood and a slightly sickening smell of something rotting which had to be the rogue insides and that was a beautiful picture that he would have liked to see more of. But Stiles knew it could smell Derek all over him, inside him, throughout every inch of his body only knowing his luck it wouldn't give a crap. He just hoped that it only wanted to kill him because he was not in the mood for any funny, werewolf raping business. Only that seemed basically the agenda for the entire evening so his chances were not looking good.

Conclusion: Stiles was about to be seriously raped by some sexually addicted, werewolf rapist whilst his best friend's girlfriend was forced to watch and while psycho Mattcreeper probably jerked off to it like the sick fucker that he was.

And did that sound like the makings of a sort of gothic musical or intensely dramatic soap or what? He could hear the werewolf's heavy breathing as it hovered over his neck, hesitating at the marks made constantly by Derek's teeth but Stiles didn't dare allow himself to hope, or even look at Matt. Or Allison. He didn't want her to see his face when the rogue…

He swallowed audibly, shutting his eyes as the rogue finally broke the barrier between them, pressing its claws surprisingly gently against his hip. He could hear the rumble of approval from Matt, felt Allison's desperate gaze on him as she started screaming his name while he just lay there like a sack of potatoes.

About to take it from a psycho raping werewolf. Just freaking great.

"It's too bad you won't get to watch Gerard kill Derek after he gets the bite," Matt continued conversationally as if they were discussing the weather not chatting before being werewolf- ass destroying- raped.

What the fuck was wrong with this dude?

Stiles felt the claws as they ripped through his clothes while Matt watched him with his stupid ass freaking smirk and suddenly he'd had enough. Nope. That was it. Stiles had reached the limit of shit taking for one day. And he was fucking done with it. Finished. Finis. The fucking End.

Rage poured through him, hot and fast twisting in his gut and setting him alight with the strength, the burn of it. Because that fucker was not getting anywhere near Derek, not if Stiles had any say in it. He growled, roughly and violently, the guttural sound tearing through the silence as the rogue stilled above him. He could feel something primal and dangerous stirring within his chest and he lifted his head with a shout of fury.

"Back the fuck off!" he snarled as the wildness of anger washed over him, the need to leap forward, to rip, tear and kill overwhelming his fear and muting the throbbing in his skull.

The rogue whined pitifully, desperately but it climbed off of him faster than fuck and backed away, bending its neck submissively.

Stiles didn't even pause to consider what that meant before he'd leapt to his feet, wild, dangerous sounds escaping his throat as he finally broke free of the ropes restraining him. Matt was startled by the movement, whipping up the crossbow to take unpractised aim but Stiles was already tackling into him, knocking him over with the force of his sudden strength and the crossbow went flying into the air. His hands curled into fists and suddenly he was hitting every inch of Matt within reach, slamming his fists into his face with enough force that Matt's head actually snapped back. Stiles was too infuriated to pull off, knowing that he'd actually lost control of himself, that something primitive had taken over and he reveled in it, pinning the creeper under him and beating the serious crap out of him.

Damn he was turning into a serious motherfucking, bonafide, badass.

Until something seized him by the scruff of his neck pulling him off of the now- beaten within an inch of his life- Matt who was moaning like the little bitch he was and completely dazed by the sudden Stiles attack. Served him goddamn right.

Stiles was still growling uncontrollably and Allison was still screaming but he quieted down when he was thrown unceremoniously against the tree stump Matt had been leaning so easily against before. The pain distracted him from his rage and he blinked through his confusion, struggling to move. But the hand only gripped the back of his collar tightly before slamming the front of his head punishingly into the wood.

He cried out in pain, fighting to keep consciousness as the hand released him, satisfied that he wouldn't cause any more trouble.

Then he slumped to the ground, skull throbbing dully with pain. Because Jesus was everybody trying to give him brain damage or something?

"You don't threaten an alpha in front of it's mate," Gerard spat out angrily and Stiles heard the welcoming slap of skin as Gerard struck Matt across the face. "Even a human mate."

Matt groaned in pain but when Stiles struggled into an upright position, using the stump to support his weight, he watched Matt's eyes darken in rage and the embarrassed flush of heat to his face after having his ass handed to him by an old man. And felt a deep satisfaction at that. At least Stiles didn't get bitch slapped by a ninety year old. That was pretty much the only positive thing he could come up with at the moment. And he didn't think his masculinity could take any more hits tonight.

Gerard was standing over him, Allison's crossbow held expertly in his wizened fingers and Stiles watched unfocusedly as the rogue paced between them in confusion. He was slipping in and out of consciousness but he managed to keep his eyes open to watch. The rogue's limping, movements were slow and encumbered and not remotely as crazed as it had been when it attacked him during heat week. And Stiles suddenly realised that it's loyalty to Matt was the only thing keeping it there. And for some reason that was kind of amusing, in a twisted and disturbed way.

The unbelievable sense of tension settled around them as Gerard stared down at Matt like he was an ant that could be easily crushed beneath his boot.

And then an enraged howl, much like the noises escaping Stiles' mouth earlier interrupted the silence, echoing in the woods around them and he recognised the sound immediately.

Derek.

And apparently so did crazy ass, Gerard. "You've outlived your usefulness," Gerard growled out before he abruptly released an arrow into Matt's skull.

Allison screamed again and Stiles wasn't quick enough to close his eyes, watching dazedly as Matt head appears to explode in a shower of blood and gore and other things he wouldn't care to name in favour of keeping the food in his stomach.

Ugh. He was never going to be able to look a pumpkin the same way ever again. Stiles groaned, low and painful as Matt slumped over without another word, dead. Deader than dead in fact, but Stiles was too distracted by the bigger threat that had just arrived on the scene. Crazy ass Grandpa. And really what was this a supernatural video game or something? Did they just level up? Allison was shrieking at Gerard, now having finally freed herself from the ropes and withdrawing a knife from her boot ready for some serious Grandpa stabbing.

"Take one step and he dies," Creepy Argent snarled pointing the crossbow at Stiles. Of course. And Allison stopped in her tracks, freezing immediately as he threatened him. Stiles didn't doubt for a second that he wouldn't release the trigger. "I don't need him alive to lure Derek here. The scent of his blood should be enough."

"Why are you doing this?" she demanded and her voice only slightly shook which made Stiles feel pretty impressed that she could still be such a hardass. "You hate Derek. You hate him because of Kate."

"Teenagers," he said with a dramatic roll of his eyes and Stiles seriously wished that there weren't so many versions of him flickering in front of his eyelids so he could figure out which one to punch in the face. "Always see everything in black and white."

He bent down to retrieve Stiles' keys which had gone flyaway in the excitement of Stiles' -I will destroy you McMattCreeper- moment and his fingers latched onto the dog whistle attached to the key chain that Stiles' had put there for safe keeping. Or to piss off his alpha husband when he got all cranky and disappeared into the woods again for angsty times.

Stiles tried to focus on the conversation but his movements were already dull and his eyes felt like they were drooping closed which they were and of course everything was just feeling fucking fantastic right now. The wound on his head had opened up again, the blood already pouring down the side of his face like it was the freaking red sea, directly into his eyes and making it harder to keep focus because he couldn't see a damn thing. He thought that he definitely had a concussion at the least but he could still see Gerard's expression as he held the whistle, chuckling at it and raising an eyebrow in bemusement.

"You are certainly an amusing young man," he said and Stiles attempted to scramble drunkenly to his feet to stop him when Gerard raised it to his lips- old man cooties much?- and blew.

The rogue howled and leapt towards Gerard to stop the piercing sound that followed which was clearly affecting its hearing and such but the Argent merely released another arrow right between its chest, without even blinking, hard and unforgiving. The sound of agony ripped through the trees and the werewolf fell, the arrow still lodged inside its chest before it whined softly.

It's probably goddamn Jesus, freaking Christ on a scale of one- to holy fuck what is that- level of fucked up and Stiles watched through what could only be described as tunnel vision as the werewolf started struggling, bones snapping and rearranging as it tried to change back into its human form.

It didn't work but it looked pretty freaking disturbing and Stiles will not be able to sleep ever again. The rogue made a terribly devastated sound as it weakly fought to shift. And Stiles distantly wondered if it was always like that, trapped inside its own werewolf body, having forgotten the human part of itself only to remember in its last living moments. The memory proved pointless for it anyway and when its heaving chest, and struggling breaths finally cease Stiles sort of swayed against the stump in acknowledgement feeling too knocked around for comfort to even really care. And in the end the death of the rogue- which had been plaguing them for weeks- seemed pretty anticlimatic and there was a lot less blood and death than he would have expected. Except for Matt's bloodied corpse right at Gerard's feet.

And what the fuck were they meant to do with that? Bury it in Allison's backyard? But then Gerard approached him, distracting his thoughts, crossbow still trained on Allison who was unmoved but poised to strike if the situation could allow it. Stiles could only blink up at him uncomprehendingly still knocked around by the various consecutive head traumas in one evening. "You are one seriously fucked up old man," he said because this was a problem that clearly needed to be addressed right now.

Gerard shrugged and bent down to gently take a hold of his arm. Stiles wondered what the hell he was doing before Gerard twisted with unbelievable strength jerking his arm unnaturally so that blinding pain assaulted him with the inevitable pop as his shoulder dislocated from the socket.

He screamed, voice echoing through the treetops and travelling out in all directions before he could stop the sound, knowing that Gerard was trying to give Derek some incentive to appear a little faster. Gerard then pushed him back, satisfied and left him there, arm hanging uselessly as the pain triggered unwilling sounds from his throat. He struggled to keep his eyes open and he knew that Derek was definitely coming for him now and that one of them was most likely going to die, probably the human first.

This had literally not been one of his best days. He could make a list of better things that had happened to him in the past and this day would be nowhere near it because it was just the shittiest day to ever, exist ever. And all he wanted to do was shut his eyes.

But Allison was shouting something at him and he was looking at her blankly through blood vision and his head was aching and the pain in his arm was just too damn much and he just wanted to crash and forget the world.

Because apparently the world was hell bent on killing him.

And then Derek finally burst into the clearing, with a wild snarl of alpha werewolf rage and the shit really hit the fan.


	14. Yes

So funnily enough this has turned out to be the last chapter. Heh. But I'm going to go back through it and find all those sneaky mistakes I've missed. But thank you all for sticking with this story and I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it :3 and thank you so much for your comments and ideas and advice you're all just wonderful. I really love this fandom. So thank you all for being so awesome! (And trust me, this will not be the last Sterek lovin' I produce. I have plenty more sterek ideas for the future wink* wink* nudge* nudge*)

Toodles and Enjoy!

* * *

**Yes.**

It was safe to say that Stiles was no longer in the game anymore or in any universe remotely adjacent to the elusive game when he didn't even possess the strength to keep his head up off of his chest anymore. And that had to be the weirdest sensation in the world. It was like he had randomly developed some freaky kind of noodle neck and the rest of his body had decided to turn into a boneless, floppy mess of Stilinski.

He groaned distantly as he struggled to wrench his eyes back open to watch whatever the hell kind of fucked up thing was happening _now. _It sucked ass that he was letting down the team in the final moments, fulfilling the role of useless dead weight a little too easily for his masculinity to enjoy. If there was a way he could not be suffering from multiple head wounds he'd be kicking some serious Grandpa ass right about now but his head had been cracked open like an egg and there was a definite possibility that his brain was oozing out onto the forest floor.

Just to paint a pretty picture.

Only there was nothing remotely pretty about it because Stiles kind of felt like he might be close to passing out forever and never waking up which was slightly concerning in an holy God I'm gonna die kind of way. It all felt heavy- like a serious anvil sitting on his chest heavy- and he couldn't even begin to imagine if his badass werewolf husband had really made such a dramatic appearance or if he'd just invented the whole thing in his clearly damaged brain.

Because he was in love with him and apparently Derek's werewolf penis felt the same way which was nice.

But not the issue here. The issue was trying to keep conscious when he couldn't even hear the sound of his own name anymore and his brain had suffered such a core meltdown that he didn't even think he would recognise it anyway. Distantly he realised that he should be fighting a lot harder for this, to see who the hell had been killed yet or if Mattcreeper had magically returned from the dead. It wouldn't surprise him at this point.

Because zombies was just one easy step away from werewolves with magical penises capable of love and all.

But reality seemed to have already flipped its proverbial switch and basically everything had turned freaking upside down which meant that he had no freaking idea what the hell was going on. So it was a normal day for Beacon Hills.

He wished someone had warned him to wear his protective head gear or something before being kidnapped by Mattcreeper but considering he'd never really needed it before it made sense that it currently wasn't in his possession. Plus headgear at highschool was like some kind of very dramatic and aesthetically unpleasant form of social suicide. Not that Stiles wasn't popular enough.

The nature of his sudden sex life seemed to be. And the fact that Derek liked to knot him because it secretly meant love and rainbows and the feelings. Oh God, he prayed the news didn't get back to his dad.

About the knotting not the rainbows. God were his eyes even open yet? He couldn't tell.

He struggled with his heavier than Mount Everest eyelids and after what felt like a century they finally stopped feeling like they were lifting some serious set of weights and he managed to wrench them open. Which was definitely a mistake. His head swam and his vision was blurry and completely out of focus and that was fun because he felt a little bit like maybe he was high and that was a much nicer thought than brain damage.

He spotted the fully transformed in all of his wolf glory alpha only metres away from his serious wong tong, noodled body as he barrelled straight into Gerard. And he looked like a damn better version of fully transformed werewolf than the rogue had- but it had been dying and Stiles may have been a little biased. The geriatric got off a few arrows but Derek was too fast- much too fast for Stiles to keep track of- snarling out a frenzied noise as he slammed into him, throwing old man evil into the dead leaves.

The alpha quickly overwhelmed Gerard and Stiles thought he possessed some of that crazy ass strength that he'd suddenly discovered when he'd beaten up Mattcreeper. It had to be a thing. Or maybe Derek was just really pissed that Stiles had been brained against a tree stump and hit in the side of the face with a crossbow and almost werewolf raped. And… okay seriously? Did everybody just think that he looked like a human punching bag or what? It was not Stiles target practise, Jesus.

Derek made an inhuman sound which duh, he was fully transformed alpha wolf on a murdering rampage. And then Gerard finally got what he'd wanted, the alpha's teeth sinking into the skin of his neck.

Just before Derek ripped his throat out.

Or at least that was what it looked like from Stiles' concussion vision. Maybe the alpha was just giving Gerard one serious hell of a lovebite. Because they were clearly secret lovers and they were going to run away together and elope or something.

The blood spurted out of like _everywhere _in the vicinity of his throat only it looked much freakier in Stiles' blood vision. There was like blood everywhere. It was a freaking blood explosion. He was pretty sure he'd be swimming in it soon. And Stiles couldn't see Allison at all but he just figured she was off kicking butt somewhere, taking names and being a badass female with a crossbow.

So he decided he'd better put some effort into this and managed to straighten his posture from sort of just laying there in a daze, to sort of half sitting there in a daze. And now he was the biggest badass on the planet. He was clearly saving the day here. It was all down to him sitting in an upright position.

Again he wondered if he'd imagined his werewolf boyfriend coming to the rescue because he couldn't trust the images his eyes were sending his brain at the moment. But then he felt the wetness of Derek's snout pressed against his face and the leathery sensation of his tongue as he licked away all the blood. Which was a mixture of weird and oddly affectionate big wolfy Derek emotion.

Allison hovered anxiously over him, trusty crossbow back in her hands and Stiles finally realised that all was right in the world. Because she'd obviously made short work of all those woodland creatures. Thank God.

He gave them this sloppy- probably crossed eyed- grin and struggled to move his arms for a thumbs up. But unfortunately that was beyond him. Allison made a distressed sound and dropped to her knees beside them. Because she was clearly impressed by his sitting upright manoeuvre.

"Oh my God Stiles," she gasped, tears still running down her face. And clearly that was not a congratulations weeping but an holy shit are you seriously dying right now? kind of waterworks.

Stiles swivelled his noodle neck in her direction and felt the tug of a smile at his lips. Derek was whining pitifully and somehow his fingers ended up in his fur, latching onto him comfortably like the alpha was his own personal pet. Who he did not and would never _ever _feed lady snacks to for the sake of his soul and mental disposition, forever and ever amen.

An answering howl echoed nearby and the Scott blur burst into the clearing and made a beeline straight for the Allison blur. God, could Scott still taste the leather from being whipped within an inch of his life? Stiles could almost taste it himself, although he was pretty sure that was blood and he'd bitten his tongue sometime during the werewolf/ old man death match.

"Allison," he burst out wildly, running to her side and completely ignoring Stiles' clearly new developed jellyfish powers. He flopped a finger in his blurry direction.

"M' fine Scott," he slurred out sarcastic, jellyfish style. "Dn' freak."

The Scott blur actually turned to him and the gasp of horror that came from his lips satisfied Stiles to some degree and he lolled his head back into the alpha's direction because he'd creeped Scott blur out and his life was clearly fulfilled.

Although Derek had already transformed back into his human form and then Stiles felt a peculiar warmth slowly travelling up his arm and his head abruptly felt clearer. And then he saw the twisting, raised black veins on the alpha's arm and the strained expression on his face as he started taking everything from him. His pain.

"No!" he cried wrenching his arm out of Derek's grip with surprising non blubbery, jelly strength. The alpha's eyes snapped up in surprise and Stiles had never seen the expression on his face before. But he was determined not to let him do this.

Because the alpha had had enough pain to last a lifetime. "This is mine," he said his voice already back to normal from Derek's brief werewolf healing touch, pushing the alpha's hand away when he tried to do it again. "You don't get to take it."

The alpha looked confused but he bent forward to take Stiles' dislocated arm into his grip. "Okay, okay," Derek muttered and it sounded like he was talking to himself or at least trying to convince himself that Stiles wasn't deranged. "Then this is going to hurt."

Stiles stared at him blankly, uncomprehendingly. He couldn't figure out if Derek was going into alpha shock. And then he jerked Stiles arm, expertly snapping the bone back into the socket. Stiles screamed again high and shrill, a terrifying sound as he flopped around in an attempt to get away from the pain.

Derek's grip was ironclad, unmerciful and Stiles was seriously reconsidering his –Derek's penis loves me and the rest of him clearly loves me too- epiphany. Because that was spousal abuse and it fucking hurt. Like a whole hell of a freaking lot. Derek was going to have to give him some seriously mind blowing sex to earn his forgiveness. Stiles wouldn't accept anything less than zero brain cells and utter post coital bliss.

He garbled out some angry and no doubt highly offensive insults before he realised the stabbing, blinding, burning pain had dulled into a throbbing memory and Derek wasn't actually trying to tear his arm off from the rest of his body.

He groaned in shaky relief, softly burying his face into Derek's available shoulder before the alpha was lifting the Stiles jelly into his arms. And then he was upgraded from the usual hunted kill position to bridal style which clearly showed how much Derek was in love with his ass. Or was that his penis that was in love with Stiles?

He couldn't remember. Stiles' fingers locked around Derek's neck practically burying into his hair as his eyes fell shut.

"Don't fall asleep," the alpha warned and his voice was tight and restless. Stiles kind of liked the sudden emotion to it. In fact he liked it a whole hell of a freaking lot like he might want to hear that sort of emotion from the alpha even if it meant constant near death experiences.

Had Derek really been that worried about him? Did not just his werewolf penis but the rest of the alpha's body love him too? Because that would have just made everything- even the loss of brain cells and the bitch of a headache he'd have tomorrow- worth it.

Derek totally loved him. How couldn't he love Stiles? He was the perfect werewolf spouse, a total freaking catch and he didn't just roll over like everybody did in the alpha's presence. Stiles gave him a challenge and he made Derek's life interesting not to mention that he was a hell of good bang. Because he was a fast learner and had the potential for a career in werewolf stripping and prostitution and such.

Of course the alpha was all loved up. And that was what Stiles would stubbornly believe until his head stopped throbbing like someone was repeatedly hitting it with a hammer.

"I know," he murmured lowly, his head still lolling uselessly as the alpha moved through the woods. "Jesus can't I shut my eyes for a couple minutes?"

The question was clearly rhetorical but clearly Derek laughed in the face of anything rhetoric. Or tore it to pieces with his big, werewolf claws. "No you can't," he said shortly the warm press of his fingers digging into Stiles' flesh and heating him up like he really was a turkey in an oven.

He noticed they were suddenly alone and tried to move his neck to scan the woodsy, woodness of the woods the alpha was powering through like a machine. Trees, trees and more trees. It wasn't exactly the most enlightening vision of the evening.

"Where's the lovebirds?" he asked feebly, as his eyes fluttered closed again.

"Stiles," Derek growled out in warning and he reopened them with a tired sigh. The alpha didn't answer until he was satisfied that he wouldn't fall asleep. Bossy alpha. Stiles really needed to start training him already.

"They doubled back to meet the rest of hunters and werewolves," he explained.

Stiles didn't really have enough energy to care about the carnage they'd left behind to clean up in the woods. It was like silence of the wolves in there. Definitely not pretty.

And then the alpha's face swam into view, blurry, still anxious and the only thing burning through the darkness around them, brighter than everything else. Stiles' breathing felt heavier just looking at him and his chest tightened because, God he was just too much.

He didn't think he could keep looking at him. How could anybody just make everything feel so right with a brief glance, a touch, a constipated non feelings look? Jesus. He could feel it. He could feel something overwhelming him. It was Derek. Everything was Derek.

But he was exhausted and heavily depleted of energy reserves and brain cells and he was just so freaking bone tired. Stiles blinked through the haze again so he could properly admire the Derek sexy just for a little longer.

A little longer. Just a little…

"I know your penis is in love with me," was the last thing he managed to say before it all became too much and the darkness swarmed over him like a second blindfold dragging him under.

* * *

Derek was running. His heart pounded within his chest as he felt the accompanying thudding beat of the unconscious human in his arms. The idiot human who didn't understand that it was entirely possible to be attacked by a psycho hunter or even an crazier human during school hours.

He also had no idea what Stiles was talking about. Normally he would just assume it was the head injuries talking but Stiles was already prone to saying whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. But Derek had to admit he'd never heard _I know your penis is in love with me before. _That definitely had to be a first.

He could smell all of the different scents of the werewolves and humans overlapping throughout the forest but as always Stiles' scent was the strongest. It didn't matter if the human was in his arms or a thousand miles away Derek had come to know this scent as if it were his own.

He probably shouldn't have though. He'd been trying. Of course he'd been trying to keep this as distant as possible. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Stiles, to hurt them both. But as always his instincts proved the strongest and did whatever his wolf wanted before his human side could think it through and know it was a bad idea, or regret it.

Stiles was both his blessing and his curse.

Because he wanted him. God, did he want him so much that it drove him into a wild frenzy- even without the impulse to mate breathing down his throat. He had wanted and like some sick monster he had taken without remorse. Without even considering what it would do to them. It was consensual, most of the time he just had to look at that face, into those deep brown eyes and Stiles arousal would slam into him destroying any control, any semblance of sanity and surging him forward. Into the human's arms.

Derek knew he was in trouble. Knew it from the way his emotions were starting to slip through the cracks and that Stiles was somehow learning how to read them. Understanding him like he'd never experienced before. Never had anyone know him before. Not like this. Stiles didn't push, not overtly at least but he made Derek want to talk anyway, to tell him everything about himself so that when he pulled Stiles against him in the middle of the night after yet another nightmare about her, he wouldn't feel the wall there separating them. Only his dreams had changed as of late. Somehow Stiles had wormed his way into them, _his _face twisted into an agonised scream as Kate tortured him.

It used to be different. The dream. The nightmare. Kate would torture him as he was forced to watch his home burn down, with his family inside it. Only recently it had morphed into something else, taken a different shape that had him wrenched out of sleep, heart thrumming within his chest, claws out with the desperate need to tear her apart. To tear himself apart for ever trusting her.

For ever... God he'd been so stupid. So young. So reckless.

But he'd do anything, he knew. Even if it was just a dream. To get to Stiles. Who Kate always, always found first in his nightmares, who cut into his human flesh just to watch him bleed, and in turn to make Derek bleed before she burnt down his house.

He'd very nearly gone to the Argent's house once, in the middle of the night, half naked and out of his mind before he'd realised there was an accompanying heart beat, _Stiles, _still inside his home that his panic had overlooked. He'd stood outside for several minutes. Breathing in the calm, sensing everything about the human sleeping, the tinge of exhaustion. He had been too eager with claiming him as his own. Too furious in his possession of Stiles' body to focus on the fragility that came with being human, how easily they could tire.

But Stiles was there in his bed, sleeping restlessly without him and Kate had not touched him. Not in this waking reality at least. And his fatigued body slept on unknowingly.

Derek had gotten enough control to back off eventually but the human was so drenched in the scent of their union that he stiffened in a fervent anticipation whenever the smell assaulted him. He knew that school had not been the best place to send him, with a pack of werewolves who could smell every second they'd been together but it was too late to regret anything.

He didn't care at the time. He'd wanted it very clear who had done all of those things to Stiles even if he wished for the parts that he hadn't done. His wolf had taken certain liberties before he'd even noticed, before he'd even considered that he was about to lose control, the telltale tightening around his cock and the swell of his knot inside Stiles, tight willing, God so very willing, heat.

It had been an error in his judgement. He'd thought he had better control than that but his wolf had taken over in the haze of lust and made a claim that he'd never ever even made before.

A claim of worship, reverence, a promise of things to come. He had only ever felt the presence of his knot in Beacon Hills in his lifetime, just brimming below the surface of his body in heated moments of solitude.

He knew why now. And he knew exactly why he'd recognised Stiles' scent the very second he'd stepped out of the car, Henry's shocked and nervous spikes of emotion drawing him from its protection so many days ago.

It had been there for years the smell, mixed in everything, latching onto every other part of his life so that whenever he found it in a stronger concentration like in Beacon Hills hospital or the high school or hell even the supermarket it rendered him completely helpless. He'd had to stand there frozen for several minutes until he regained himself again. Laura had even begun to tease him about it. Until he couldn't take it anymore.

Couldn't take the promise of that scent lingering in his lungs, caressing his skin and driving him insane with the mystery of it. Of that feeling it was just on the tip of his tongue, but still utterly, maddeningly unreachable.

So he'd left. He'd ran. And then Peter killed Laura.

He came back. Only briefly just to set everything right again, losing his mind when he'd found the same scent on Peter. He'd seen red, killing first before asking questions. And then he was the alpha and he still couldn't understand why the scent had touched, barely even registered against his uncle's fast healing skin and the blood of those he'd killed for vengeance.

It was mixed with another scent, a newly bitten werewolf and Derek couldn't fix as much as he'd wanted. It was too late to be fixed. And he couldn't approach the fresh werewolf because it would kill him. The scent would kill him.

The fresh was in close, unbearably close, contact with the unbelievably alluring scent that was slowly driving him insane.

So he'd left again. Only coming back when the Alpha Council had allocated him the territory to run.

And then there was the scent, in such high concentration that his mouth was watering, claws extending and throat straining with the need to whine desperately, triumphantly, that the smell had been located at last.

Mine.

But mine happened to be an angry, furiously so- flushed beyond what was sinful- heart racing a perfect beat, young man.

The youngest he'd ever looked at that way in his life before. The instincts took over ignoring the sickening similarities between his situation with Kate and easily embracing the scent that had eluded him for so long.

The scent that he had eluded for his own sake.

It had been stupid to leave it for so long. His instincts were impossibly strong and harder to fight. So many times he'd nearly just taken. Taken without even asking.

And the boundless, unbelievably sarcastic energy the human exuded completely overwhelmed him until he could no longer see anything else.

The Alpha Council had known about him, about the scent before Derek had even figured out who Stiles was, and they had known his self inflicted exile would no longer sustain him. And they'd taken the matter into their own hands. Henry's offer was impossible to refuse and he'd unwillingly returned to Beacon Hills as their new alpha. Only he'd gotten much more than he'd bargained for.

He finally reached Beacon Hills Hospital nearly slamming straight through the glass doors when they didn't open fast enough for his liking and then he was following a scent, an oddly familiar scent before he stopped in front of a dark, curly haired woman.

"Scott's mother," he guessed and she looked surprised and then her expression hardened when she spotted Stiles within his arms.

"Alpha Hale, what happened to…"

"Gerard," he spat feeling his claws extend without warning. "He's taken multiple blows to the head."

The woman nodded instantly leading him towards an available bed. "Most likely a concussion. How long has he been unconscious?"

"Less than five minutes," he barked struggling to keep his emotions in check. The panic was swarming all over him like a hive of angry bees.

And she nodded as if that was enough explanation needed. Derek was grateful that she didn't attempt to take Stiles out of his arms because he was so tightly wound he might have bitten her head off. She seemed to sense that and let him deposit his unconscious body onto the bed of his own volition.

And then she got straight to work.

He took a step back, out of her way and collapsed into the plastic chair next to the bed, dropping his head into his hands, guilt swirling within him. And then he just kept listening to the steady pulsing of Stiles' heart as it continued to beat, and his followed in time.

He couldn't look at his bruised and bloodied face any longer so he closed his eyes, sifting through the scents of blood and the crazy human and the rogue and Gerard. He dug his claws into the plastic to resist the instinct to reclaim his scent on the human, still sifting through the different smells covering Stiles skin until he found the one he wanted.

The purest scent of Stiles, his sweat tinged with the remnants of fear and the smell of them both. Together.

His jaw tightened and his teeth elongated as he resisted the urge to mark Stiles' neck again. It would all have to wait for now. It was too easy to be himself around the human and much easier to lose his control.

But for now he would wait. Until those intelligent eyes were gazing into his own again seeing deeper than anyone ever had before.

Deeper than Derek had ever let anyone see.

* * *

When Stiles woke up again it was like somebody had decided they would dance on his head repeatedly while he was sleeping and then pretend that they hadn't done it whilst blasting a boombox beside his skull. His head was aching, the pain throbbing in his temples, behind his eyes and he groaned moving to fling his arms out in an angry- shaking fist- manoeuvre at the universe.

Only one of his hands was currently out of commission because it was tightly wrapped around someone else's.

Slowly he opened his eyes, wincing when the sunlight blinded him, gaze falling on the literal crowd of people standing around him. Stiles swore in surprise because it felt like one of those nightmares where you wake up naked and everyone was around you looking at your junk and commenting on it. Or was he the only one who had dreams about that?

Anyway technically he was in a hospital gown so the commenting on his genitals part wasn't entirely off the table yet.

He recognised his dad hovering over him looking pleased and relieved that he was finally awake. And then he spotted Scott and to his surprise Allison, and then Jesus Jackson, Danny and even freaking Lydia.

This was going to be the worst hit to his self esteem in his entire lifetime. Dear God would they please not comment on his penis. This was worse than his usual nightmares. And then the hand holding his own squeezed gently, as if sensing his internal panic and Stiles turned his head to look at Derek perched in the seat beside him and looking like he hadn't slept a wink.

"Hey hotstuff," he grinned before remembering the others were there.

Jackson laughed and Scott groaned and he was pretty sure that he caught his dad rolling his eyes but everybody was smiling so he figured he was forgiven.

"Hey," Derek replied voice soft, extremely soft and eyes tender as he looked at him. God and the way he was looking at him. Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat and had to look away but not before catching Jackson's- I can sense every single thing you're putting out there Stilinski- expression.

He cleared his throat and tried to breathe normally.

"What happened?" he asked pulling the warmth of Derek's fingers against his thigh almost unconsciously. The alpha didn't let go.

"You passed out," his dad said. "After getting a hell of a beating."

Stiles rolled his eyes. Thank you for stating the obvious, dad. Jesus he could have at least pretended Stiles had put up a fight. "I meant with the hunters and Gerard…"

"Gerard's dead," Derek said his voice rumbling with the beginning of a growl. Stiles only stroked the skin of his knuckles patiently because he so did not want the alpha losing his cool in a hospital where he was stuck wearing nothing but a hospital gown and flowing nakedly in the breeze.

"There wasn't really much for them to do," Allison added helpfully. "By the time they'd arrived the rogue was already dead and Derek had taken you straight to the hospital. They just were stuck with the clean up."

Oh right. The clean up of all the bodies. Stiles must have pulled a bad memories face because the alpha squeezed his hand again and he had to resist the urge to flush and jump his bones in front of his friends and family.

Although clearly Derek and Jackson were well aware of that fact. Great. He ducked his head and tried to keep his thoughts out of the Derek sex gutter. "Uh- just curious but why are you actually here, Allison?" he asked. "Not that it's not awesome but won't your dad shoot Scott?"

"Nope," she said cheerfully with a grin yanking Scott forward by his hand who was smiling warmly but not as happily as the first time he'd told Stiles Allison had kissed him. Stiles couldn't resist smiling back even if his head ached and he wanted to overdose on painkillers. But Scott's expression seemed a little off for some reason.

"My dad saw how worried Scott was about me and my parents decided we could date but only if we were willing to take all of the comments and media attention that would come with it," she said.

"And then when Scott came into the clearing…"

Scott abruptly let go of her hand, shaking his head briefly before he left the room without any explanation. Stiles raised an eyebrow in surprise almost tempted to go after him but Allison gave him her Bambi eyes for apology and hurried after her boyfriend.

"The rogue is the one that bit him," Lydia offered helpfully in explanation. "It's nomadic so it must have been passing through when it killed that woman you guys went looking for in the woods. He's still dealing with it."

Stiles' eyes widened. It was shocking to think back then that the rogue had already been creating problems for them. And killing more women. She'd been homeless living out in the woods to get by but that clearly hadn't meant much to the rogue when it had snacked on her. Then Stiles had heard about the body over his dad's police radio and insisted that he and Scott go out searching for it like every normal, macabre obsessed bunch of teenagers.

Then he'd been bitten. And technically it was kind of Stiles' fault.

It hadn't been heat month so the rogue had only just eaten her- which was just as disturbing as werewolf rape- but the descriptions Scott had hesitantly offered after months of radio silence regarding the matter of what she'd looked like afterwards had not been pretty.

And to think the rogue was the one that turned Scott into a werewolf...

God. That was just unbelievable. And ironic. Irony was still making everybody it's bitch apparently.

Was it wrong to be glad that the rogue was dead? Stiles liked to think it wasn't so he was just going to celebrate for all eternity. Poor Scott. It had destroyed him being bitten, he still thought sometimes that it had ruined his life. Despite the werewolf cool factor. And to come face to face with the thing that had ruined his life was just…

"Whoa," he said eventually.

And his dad was looking at him with his Sheriff's face again and he figured that meant a- you could have died- lecture. Lydia seemed to sense in that all knowing way of hers that it was time to leave them alone. "We should go and check on them" she said reaching out to tug on Danny's wrist.

Jackson growled at her.

"Oh my God Jackson," she snapped. "Just cause we dated doesn't mean I'm going to steal your boyfriend!"

"Jackson," Danny said reproachfully and he backed off immediately still keeping hold of Danny's other hand in case Lydia tried to run off with him or something. Stiles smirked because jealous Jackson could be quite entertaining when you've been bashed over the head with multiple items and need someone else's pain to amuse you.

Jackson scowled but he let Lydia drag them all from the room.

"Stiles," his dad began as soon as they'd left. "You are in-"

"So much trouble," he finished. "Yeah I know, but it's not my fault Mattcreeper had a thing for Allison and kidnapped her too. Well it is because I brought her to Gerard's office but dad, he was a psycho and nobody else thought so but me. So I think I deserve a little slack here considering I think my IQ has been seriously lowered from all of those skull attacks."

The Sheriff sighed and touched his other free hand. "Okay," he conceded. "I'm just glad you're safe."

And then he sensed there was a need for some serious alpha alone time and left the room too awarding Stiles with the very obvious fact that his brain was still not functioning properly and the alpha's penis was in love with him.

Oh shit. Which he'd mentioned in his brain melted phase last night. He turned to look at Derek who was still stroking his thumb absentmindedly against the skin of his hand. "So when I said I know your penis is in love with me," he said. "What I really meant was that-"

"You knew my penis was in love with you," Derek guessed for him. "Was I supposed to understand what that meant?"

Stiles wasn't exactly sure how to broach the- Mattcreeper told me that you can only knot somebody you're in love with- topic so he just dived right into it. "It means I learnt some interesting things about werewolf knotting," he said giving Derek a- you jackass how did you not explain this to me- look.

The alpha had a moment of raw, naked panic on his face before his expression hardened and he tried to pull his hand away. Stiles, naturally kept his hand attached like they were freaking super glued together.

"Can you just…" Derek said. "Just not now, okay? Let me explain later."

Stiles frowned at him. "Fine."

And then before the alpha could make any more comments about his penis or his reluctance to talk about said penis, Stiles leaned over the bed slamming his mouth against Derek's in a total sneak attack. Because Stiles was clearly punishing him with his mouth. The alpha surged up towards him with just as much enthusiasm using his free hand to cradle the back of Stiles' injured skull as he pressed his mouth more forcefully against him, deepening the kiss.

Stiles could hear the heart rate monitor going crazy and groaned into Derek's mouth still holding his hand so very tightly as his head started to go a bit fuzzy. And then the alpha pulled away. Stiles made an irritated sound, wrapping his free hand around Derek's shirt to try and pull him closer but the alpha remained unmoved.

"You're still weak," Derek said. "Later."

Stiles was sure as hell going to hold him to that promise. There would be Derek sexy in the future so help him God. He slumped further down in the bed. "This better not be the moment where I turn around and you've jumped out the window or something."

Derek did that familiar eyebrow thing again and Stiles wanted to laugh and cry at the same time because oh God it hurt to look at him when he was that perfect. It was just so Derek, and seeing it felt like everything might be okay.

Unless of course a yeti or something decided that it wanted to kill him too. It wasn't completely impossible.

His grip tightened on the alpha for a moment. "Just don't go anywhere okay?"

Derek's eyes were soft when they stared into his own, and hell he was pretty sure he could see some affection in them, maybe a little bit of fondness like he'd decided it was too much effort to kill Stiles himself seeing as there were so many other available people to do it for him.

Which was just so romantic and all.

Derek didn't say anything for a while and Stiles kind of figured that was his answer. He didn't know what to feel about that. Because if the alpha didn't think that he could make those kind of promises then what the hell were they doing? Is that why he seemed so hesitant? Was he going to leave him?

Stiles hated the idea more than anything he'd ever hated in his life.

"I couldn't find you," Derek offered suddenly. "We were in the woods when Lydia called Scott and said you and Allison were both gone. And that Jackson could smell your blood."

The alpha's expression tightened and he looked away from him as if he couldn't bear to see Stiles' face as the memories washed over him. He said nothing, listening hungrily to the words coming out of Derek's mouth because he didn't think he'd get a chance like this again.

And it sort of might have felt like the alpha was going to dump him. Which sort of was the worst get well present ever. He swallowed the lump of pain within him blinking, wearily to get control of his emotions. Because the alpha was going to have to grow a pair and say the words or Stiles would never let him go.

"I sort of lost it," Derek admitted. "You were… and I had no idea where you were. I left the hunters and the werewolves but Scott followed me. I don't know how I found your scent but I did, I could sense you were in the woods."

Stiles liked to think it was because he was in love with him. But he doubted it. It was probably just some werewolf instinct mojo, nothing to write home about. Unfortunately.

"And then I could smell the rogue. I followed the direction of the scents but there was too much area to cover and not enough time. And then that damn whistle again-"

Stiles choked out a strangled laugh, smiling before he could stop himself. "I swear I wasn't the one that did it that time," he said. "Gerard wanted to lure you there faster."

Derek scowled. "Only he could have such a sick and twisted humour as you," he said.

What a compliment. Stiles frowned at him but technically he had no excuses- the dog whistle had been on his key chain- and he had intended to use it sometime in the near future. Only in really extreme circumstances though like when Derek maybe insulted his cooking skills or something. So maybe his idea of humour was a little sick and twisted.

Sue him.

"But I knew that it was your dog whistle and no matter what was waiting for me, you'd be there. And then I heard you scream-"

Stiles drew a sharp breath as Derek's body tensed in memory. That had not been fun. Not remotely fun. His shoulder still twinged as a reminder that old men should in no circumstances get anywhere near his arms. Or anywhere near the rest of him. For the sake of his own sanity.

"Yeah," he agreed letting go of the alpha's hand to rub briefly at his arm. The alpha chased his hand with his own, enveloping it in his warmth again. Stiles felt his heart beat stutter. God Derek was killing him here.

If he wanted to dump him already shouldn't he keep all the touching to a bare minimum?

"They've already done some tests," Derek explained mistaking his fidgeting for anxiousness to leave as opposed to the need to prevent the alpha from sacrificing his sex life to protect him.

Stiles figured that this dumping was for noble reasons and it's too dangerous reasons.

And I love you so much I can't watch you die reasons.

Stiles knew the feeling well.

"You can be discharged in a couple of hours."

Stiles watched his face suspiciously for any- I'm about the jump out the window and leave you here- signs from the alpha but Derek wouldn't meet his gaze. It was so over. He was about to be seriously dumped. The end was nigh.

"Great," he said ignoring the confused expression on Derek's face at his tone. "Just freaking great."

* * *

The Sheriff sent Derek home to sleep and to Stiles surprise he actually listened to him, leaving him all alone in the stupid hospital in a stupid hospital gown to fend for himself. His dad had left the room to grab coffee when Lydia returned suddenly, dragging Scott into the room by his ear.

"Ow, ow, God Lydia!" Scott whined and then she released him, giving Stiles a helpful wink before she left the room again. Dear God that woman was going to rule the world. No doubt whatsoever.

"So I heard about-" Stiles began hesistantly not sure of Scott's reaction.

"Yeah," was all he got as a reply. He nearly sighed. Clearly he was going to be doing all the work here.

"I'm sorry buddy," he said. "But at least now its dead."

Scott frowned rubbing at his ear distractedly. "Yeah but I'm still a werewolf."

Stiles wasn't sure how to get through to him here. Because it was a damn gift and Scott needed to see it like that already. And then suddenly Stiles was. "Just think, if you weren't you'd never be able to protect Allison and her dad would probably not let you anywhere near her."

Scott's eyes widened as the realisation hit him. He smiled slightly, patting Stiles' leg affectionately. "Thanks, Stiles."

They grinned at each other until his father came back into the room. "Oh son," The Sheriff said. "I almost forgot to tell you. They gave me my job back for all of my help with the hunters in catching the rogue and its master. So I can legally shoot all of the things trying to kill you now."

Oh goody. Stiles smiled but it felt a little forced without the warm pressure of Derek's hand within his own.

"That's great dad. Don't go shooting everything at once."

His father only shook his head at him, keeping his coffee well out of Stiles' reach.

* * *

The car trip back to Derek's den of dastardly deeds was the most awkward thing of his life. He couldn't look at the alpha because the bastard was going to tear his newly realised feelings in half and shatter all of his hopes and dreams by dumping him. And that didn't really make him feel like keeping up the conversation. Plus he couldn't really speak because he was pretty sure if he did he'd either start begging for Derek to admit his penis was in love with him or start yelling at him for even considering dumping his ass.

Because obviously Derek wasn't going to find anybody else and this kind of self imposed heart break was freaking ridiculous.

This was why he had a freaking dog whistle on his key chain, Jesus. Stupid alpha and his cactus tendencies. They pulled into the driveway soundlessly and Stiles was out of the car before Derek had turned off the engine storming into the house because he was seriously pissed.

How could the alpha even think about not staying with him? Did he want them both to suffer for all eternity? Jesus Derek was more self deprecating than he'd originally thought. The alpha caught up with him easily, barely placing the car keys on the kitchen table before Stiles was rounding on him.

"How could you not tell me about the knotting thing?" he demanded hearing the anger in his voice as his fists clenched. He wanted to hit something, and that something was looking more and more like Derek's face in each passing minute.

The alpha dropped his gaze guiltily as if he knew he was in big trouble. Hell yeah he was. Stiles was about to tear him a goddamn new one. "I-" Derek tried but Stiles was already on a roll and ignored him.

"I had to find out from a psychopath," he snapped. "Did you know that? So what does this even mean? Your wolf loves me but you don't? Your penis has a thing for my ass? What Derek? I mean, why won't you tell me any of this stuff? Am I really that untrustworthy?"

The alpha just stood there as Stiles paced about the room fuming. "And now what we can't even talk to each other anymore? Jesus how badly do you want to be rid of me? That's what you want right? For me to be gone and you to be alone and so _angry."_

His face was burning and he just felt so damn angry as well. It was like he was on fire. "You know I was going to kill him?" he demanded ignoring the surprised expression on Derek's face. "As soon as Matt mentioned hurting you, God I freaking lost it. I don't know what came over me."

"And for you to just want to walk away from this is just… you're so goddamn frustrating!" he yelled raising his arms in defeat. "But fine. You know what, fine. I'll go and get my stuff and then you get what you want," he snapped turning on his heel to leave the room.

"That's not what I want," he said quietly and Stiles froze.

"I didn't tell you because it was a mistake," he said and Stiles let out a growl of aggravation and went to stalk away but Derek reached out and seized his arm. And if he wanted to snap if off, he was going to goddamn do it thank you very much. Werewolf powers or not.

"I didn't expect my wolf to accept you so easily. I was trying to keep distance between us because this was all moving so fast and you're so young-"

"I'm not young!" Stiles shot back.

"Younger than me," Derek rectified looking sort of pissed off himself. "And when _that _happened I tried to pull myself away from you. I kept that- part of the sex back until-"

"I bit you," Stiles finished starting to understand why he hadn't seen any of Derek's werewolf knot during heat week- because Derek hadn't wanted him to. He remembered the alpha's surprise when he'd bitten him, the swell of his knot only appearing afterwards.

"You caught me by surprise," he admitted. "And I lost control of myself again."

Stiles resisted the urge to stamp his foot. "But I want you to lose control," he insisted. "I want you to stop pretending nothing touches you."

Derek abruptly let him go and Stiles turned back to face him. "I haven't been able to pretend… since I met you."

And Stiles wanted to punch him and kiss him for that. God was he trying to make this harder than it was? "What do you want from me?" he asked hearing the tiredness in his voice and the desperation. Sweet Jesus the desperation was palpable.

The alpha paused briefly, hesitating over something and looking so damn vulnerable that Stiles almost felt guilty for yelling. Almost. "I want you to answer one question. Just one and then if you want, you can leave. I won't stop you."

Stiles folded his arms hating how much worse it felt that Derek wouldn't try to stop him. But he figured he'd humour the asshole anyway. 'Fine," he said tightly ignoring the way his breath caught when Derek stepped closer.

"You didn't you let me heal you, in the woods," he said close enough to kiss, impossible to look away from. Stiles swallowed knowing that Derek was trying to gauge his reaction. He couldn't lie even if he tried. He was too close. Stiles could smell him and God it hurt. Just being this close hurt if it would be the last time.

"That wasn't a question," he said slowly. But he took a step back because he didn't trust himself to speak in the close proximity and Derek frowned at him, unmoving.

"You said it was yours?" Derek continued. "That I didn't get to take it."

Stiles shrugged looking everywhere but his eyes because those were the laser beams of death and he was not going to give away the fact that Derek's penis wasn't the only one in love here. Because that was clearly a secret he was going to take to his grave.

"So?" he said managing to sound petulant and indifferent at the same time. "I was out of my mind."

"Do you love me?" Derek asked. And holy shit that was the million dollar question. No warning, no thought about the consequences of such a question being asked. Fuck. Stiles froze and his eyes locked with the alpha's. And that pretty much spelt doom to all thought processes. Ever.

No. Nope. Noh. Nein. Nyet. Nie. Nej. Nee. Nem. Não. Nu. Nahi. Nullus. Nē.

"Yes."

Derek's eye's widened imperceptibly as if he hadn't expected that answer. But he didn't laugh or jump out a window or claw Stiles in half so he figured they were doing pretty good.

Although his heart was pumping so wildly that he was expecting it to detach from his chest like a rocket and launch itself into the universe. Stiles figured that was sort of what love did to you. Or maybe he really did have brain damage. Whatever.

Derek finally spoke.

"When we… in the woods," he said raising his eyebrows to reveal hidden sex in the woods subtext in his perfect way of enunciating things. "That wasn't because I lost control. It was because I love you too."

Oh. Huh. So there was a heart under all those prickles.

And there was no explosion. Derek did not self destruct. He did not run off howling into the night. He didn't even seem that nervous about the sudden declaration of love. He just stood there and stared at Stiles like he was the only thing that mattered in the universe.

And for once the universe seemed to agree. Finally. Stiles actually sagged a little. "Well that's a freaking relief," he said, "because all I had to take with me was a duffel bag full of socks."

Derek smiled like a real actual, genuine- I am not a robot- smile. "I know," he said as he took a step towards him again and Stiles moved eagerly into his embrace, wrapping his arms around Derek's neck and dragging his fingers through the alpha's hair.

"Does that mean you'll stay?" Derek asked pushing his face into Stiles neck.

And then he just inhaled like Stiles was the most wonderful aroma in the world and he couldn't get enough no matter how many times he mauled his neck. Stiles swallowed. Hard. Because apparently the feelings had taken over them both and unbelievably nobody had died.

Well nobody not completely evil and cuckoo crazy.

So they were doing okay.

And then Stiles was nodding, and Derek's mouth was covering his own and he was doing more than okay.

So much more than freaking okay.

* * *

_ Epilogue_

Derek groaned struggling to pull away from Stiles' current ministrations on his cock. Stiles frowned, mouthing wetly as his lips encircled Derek in the heat of his mouth and pushed on the alpha's back holding him in place as Derek tipped his head back in enjoyment.

But he kept struggling against Stiles' mouth, pulling away before thrusting back in and Stiles rolled his eyes as he cupped Derek's balls gently, swiping his thumb against the flesh of it as the alpha made an unusual, needy sound.

Stiles loved it. He loved every sound Derek made and this had been the best idea to ever come into his brain like ever. Although if Derek would stop twitching like he was the one with ADHD everything would have gone a lot smoother. The alpha reached for him again and Stiles released his werewolf cock with a wet pop, swatting at his hands.

"Dude," he complained only a little annoyed. "You promised."

They'd been working on the foreplay thing for several days now. Only every time they got anywhere interesting Derek was pulling Stiles towards him, lubricated fingers reaching desperately for his ass.

And then the sexy time. Every time. They were so impatient it was ridiculous. And sure not that the sex wasn't awesome and whatnot but their degree of foreplay was embarrassing. Stiles was certain they were offending the sex Gods or something. It was a problem that needed to be fixed like pronto. Which was what Stiles was currently working on though the alpha wasn't playing fair again. Derek tensed and managed a desperate nod before falling back against the pillows and shutting his eyes and Stiles couldn't believe how whipped the alpha was on him.

Grinning, he took Derek back into his mouth again fingers gripping his thighs tightly to keep him still as the alpha moaned at the sensation. He happened to enjoy making Derek moan very much. Like very much as in he could probably do it all day if the situation would allow it.

His mouth dragged wetly over the tip of Derek's cock, sinking down the sensitive skin and licking along the vein as he slowly deep throated him. The alpha made a strangled sound of appreciation seizing one of Stiles hands to prevent him from moving straight to the dessert course of the evening. Because he was a freaking greedy alpha with impulse issues.

Stiles was pretty impressed and very proud that Derek was at least attempting the foreplay thing. The sounds he was making seemed to tell Stiles that he liked it. But he was gripping Stiles hand pretty tightly and he figured he'd better speed this up for both their sakes. Or Derek might break the bed. Again.

He palmed himself roughly through his boxers groaning around Derek's cock and the alpha made a choked noise as he stiffened. And then Stiles realized what had happened, deciding quickly to exert this new found information for very happy endings, using his free hand to move back to rub Derek's family jewels.

And then he hummed, the vibration travelling all the way up Derek's cock as he looked up at him through his lashes. The alpha came with a shout jerking shallowly into Stiles' mouth when he didn't pull away, swallowing down everything Derek offered.

The alpha groaned again pulling Stiles off his now sensitive cock, whining when Stiles sucked in revenge.

"There we go," he said as Derek pulled him onto his chest, his cock still half hard and ready for the sexy time. He was already reaching for Stiles' boxers. "That's foreplay. And damn ours still needs work."

The alpha rolled his eyes. "Later" he growled as he dragged Stiles over his hips and he leaned forward with a smirk mouthing at one of the alpha's nipples.

"Stiles," he half growled half whined.

"You love me," Stiles said grinning. "You love me so much that your werewolf penis is going to swell to the size of a golf ball."

Derek snorted pulling Stiles mouth away from his sensitive nipples. "Don't be so dramatic. It's not that big."

Stiles leant forward mouthing at his neck in punishment, biting down to bruise as Derek jerked upwards with a moan that sent a thrill through him. "When you've had a knot in _your _ass you can call it whatever the hell you want," Stiles said. "But until then, my ass my rules buddy."

Derek sighed, rolling his eyes before ripping off Stiles' boxers, tearing them into shreds.

"Why?" he cried dramatically. "Those boxers were my most prized possession you evil, clothes destroyer!"

"Are you ever not sarcastic?" Derek teased already reaching for the lube on the bedside table.

Stiles wiggled his hips playfully, gasping when he felt the newly hard werewolf cock beneath him. He flexed his leg muscles in preparation gazing down at Derek and feeling as though his chest might burst from the feelings.

The love feelings. Then Derek stared back, his face so expressive and just so damn freaking amazing as he looked into him with his laser eyes. The very _mutual _love feelings. Because Stiles life was perfect and awesome and he had a sexy alpha husband who was going to help him rule the world starting with dominating foreplay before sexy time. They would become ultimate foreplay masters. Together they were clearly unstoppable.

"Nope," he said cheerfully already reaching down for Derek, for every scrape of skin, every slide of hot flesh as they fell into each other.

Again and again.

"Sarcasm is my only defence."


End file.
